


Satan's Number 1

by OneLetteredWonder



Series: Demon Trilogy [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneLetteredWonder/pseuds/OneLetteredWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the King of Hell has its perks. Francis gets to oversee final punishments and bring pain to those who deserve it. Being summoned however, he never expected. Nor did he expect the human to be lonely and just want a friend. It's just a month, what could happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Francis opens his eyes lazily into the red room around him. The ceiling's stalactites are pointing rocky daggers down at him. He lets a feral sneer break across his face when the screams reach his ears. He lets out a low chuckle as he rolls over in his bed to lay on his stomach, the black satin caressing his skin. He snuggles a fluffy pillow to him and sighs in content. With a groan he stretches his wings up, the tension easing out of his muscles. He flops them back down to splay across the blankets. Another chuckle graces his lips when another yell is heard. He yawns.

He pushes off the comfort of his bed, groaning again as he does so. He runs his hands through his white hair, letting his sharpened nails graze across his scalp and the base of his upward pointed horns. He spreads his wings wide, flapping them twice to lift him off the bed. His toes touch the floor. Clothing starts to encase him. Boots lace up his legs and pants materialize around his tail onto him. He lifts his arms up to stretch, a ripped black shirt wrapping around the skin. He shakes to get used to the feel of clothes again. His wings wiggle against the fabric around them. He lets out a low hum and pushes open the black doors to his room. Hell surrounds him.

He chuckles again, picking the last of sleep from his eyes. The doors behind him close with a bang and disappear in a puff of smoke. He struts along the path surrounded by jagged rocks. Screams come from all different directions. He enjoys them all. He reaches the end of the path and another pair of doors, silver in color, become visible through a mass of fog. They open with a ding when he gets closer.

Francis steps into the elevator, folding his wings in close. He doesn't have to keep them out all the time, he could hide them if he pleased, but he's where he belongs, why would he want to hide them. His wings are black, dragon like in their size and shape. A symbol of his position and power. The larger the wings are of a demon, the higher position. The more strength of the wings, higher the power level. Francis is very proud of his wings. As he should be.

There's another ding and he steps off the contraption. He walks through the red lined halls, easily stepping through a door that pops up in his way. He's greeted by the bustle of lesser demons. They move around with scowls on their faces, or twisted smirks. Some are sitting at desks, other are carrying papers back and forth. One demon is enveloped in a red fog and disappears. Francis walks through them without a care. No one speaks to him.

At the far end of the room is a large office. Francis steps in and moves to lounge in his larger than necessary chair. He kicks his feet up on his desk. There are a few papers on his desk, asking him to decide the proper technique for certain.. 'residents'. He picks up a paper and reads it with a soft smile on his face. A murderer case. He looks over the facts of the crime, a very slow and painful stabbing. He rolls his eyes. He jots down the name of a torture room for 20 years, then jots down the name of a training room for the next 20. He could always use more torturers, besides, the training is worse than the actual torture. There is always more pain to be had in Hell.

"Good Morning sir," He glances up from the paper to the doorway. A large man is standing there, a simple black t-shirt covering his chest and chain tattoos snaking up his arms. His own wings are large, but not as thick, not as strong. His dark grey horns curling around his ears and a pointed tail flicking back and forth behind him. A pure white scarf around his neck. Francis has no idea how his torture chief manages to keep his scarf sparkling white, one of the brightest colors in the underground chambers. Francis smiles at him letting his pointed teeth show.

"Morning Ivan," The large man steps forward, a childlike smile on his face. Francis has known Ivan most of his otherworldly life. A few hundred years at least. They met each other in passing at first, moving about the work room just outside his now office. Francis tried to seduce the man, and got promptly punched in the face for it. It's taboo to mess with a incubus's face. They need that to do their _job_. Francis retaliated by taking the man's scarf. Ivan went on rampage, hurting and ruining as many people as he could. That's how Ivan went up the demon position ladder. His wings grew as he tore through the workplace, scattering papers everywhere and throwing chains around other demon's necks.

Francis had laughed so hard when the old Chief of Torture caught the bloodthirsty demon. Ivan had scars all over his neck, probably from his own torture time before he went into training. Scars that are now exposed since his white scarf went missing. Ivan stood twitching and snarling at the torture chief. Francis raised an eyebrow at the lack of professionalism from his coworker. He had stepped forward and pointed out the size difference in wings from the second in command compared to Ivan's. Ivan hadn't gotten the second in command position that day, but the fourth. A significant difference from his lackey position from before. Francis snuck into his room and returned his scarf, with a note saying 'you're welcome~'.

He didn't walk for a week when Ivan found him after. Ivan did thank him, then wrapped chains around his legs and pulled tight breaking them in several different spots. Francis didn't mind too much, he would heal in time. The only problem being his bones weren't setting right, so Ivan took it upon himself to re-break and reset the bones for him. Francis really got to know his coworker, or then, his superior. Ivan's father wrapped a chain collar around his neck and dragged him around the house like a dog. It had shot Ivan's mental health to Hell. Literally. He started his life of torture with his father, hurting him the same way once he got strong enough. He killed his dad slowly. Ivan had been a meticulous sociopath in life, killing and hurting his victims with the same ease as smiling. The same childlike smile he wears now.

He told his story too, though Ivan only enjoyed the pain Francis's showed when his bones broke. Francis had been a decent person in life. He sexed up a few people, maybe a lot. He always wore protection. Even as a man whore he knew to be safe. He broke many hearts, not that it mattered. He always thought of finding the right person, but he didn't care too much. He just liked being able to sex people up. In the end, Francis went to heaven.

He always went slow and sweet with his partners, stopping when they asked and always using protection. He just had sex a lot. Some of the higher angels didn't like him in their space, on their clouds. They thought him dirty. He didn't particularly like it either. He got a lower position in the chain, looking over the young children going through their first stages of sex exploration. He had liked doing that, helping kids accept themselves and liking who they like. He took his time with his job, always caring for the kids and helping them if their parents didn't like what they came out with. The higher angels didn't like that too much.

Francis's job description told him to just get the kids comfortably through puberty. He stayed longer with the kids than he should have, telling them it's okay to have sex, or changed the parent's minds when he shouldn't have. He saw nothing wrong with helping someone out. The higher angels told him to stop. He did eventually. He became bitter about it though. He started to miss his floozy ways and his ability to be free and out in the world. He got punished a lot by his superiors. An angel by the name of Alfred, his direct boss, tried to stick it through his head. He tried coaxing talks and words of encouragement, he also tried soft hearted threats.

Francis has never seen a more bitter look than the one Alfred gave him when he fell. It had been a painful process. He knew he didn't like heaven, it took him 31 years to figure that out. There are rules everywhere and limitations as to how much he can help. He didn't like it. When he finally came to the realization he didn't want to be in heaven, guards came to him along with Alfred to question his morals. His morals weren't in line with what heaven wanted. The guards sneered. A pain started at the base of his feathery white wings. He screamed as the clouds no longer held his body up. Alfred regarded him coldly, watching as his body drifted down.

Pain engulfed him. A burning sensation searing hard at his wings. Each feather plucked from the skin harshly, ripped away in the wind. He screamed and twisted in the air. His wings flapped out and couldn't hold him up. They bent and molded, changing shape. They took on the dragon like form they have now only smaller. They couldn't hold him though. His body lurched as he hit the ground, and kept going. The earth tore through his skin, rubbing it red and raw. He stopped breathing as the pain started at the base of his head and arched forward. His skull fractured as the horns grew into them. Long black bones jutting out of his head and pointing up away from him. A symbol of where he came from, and the place he could never return to.

He hit the ground with a thud, breaking half of his ribs and a leg. He couldn't breath. He couldn't move. His pain subsided for a moment, not having dirt to scrub his wounds, but the small relief was short lived. Hands grabbed him harshly, lifting him off the ground and tugging him this way and that. Francis met the King of Hell that day. A man with white hair and a mischievous smile on his face sat in the office he now occupies. He laughed loudly at Francis's pain. He ordered Francis to be put in solitary confinement for a few years, then physical torture for another few, then sexual displeasure. Francis went through all the torture areas of hell. Some of them twice. He went through a hundred years of training.

He worked the world as a incubus, tempting people to bed and he loved it. He got a stack of papers depicting people who he had to target, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it with other people too. He loved it. The demons above him in position didn't care how he seduced people, just that he did. The longer Francis continued on, the larger his wings grew. He worked them as much as he could, growing stronger and bigger. It didn't take him long to realize his wings resembled the King's. Although that fact had been pointed out to him by one of the greeters to Hell, a young demon sprite by the name of Matthew, who had wings similar to his as well.

One day his wings grew bigger than Gilbert's. There had been a bit of a scuffle taking the form of a brawl, but Francis came out on top, bigger and stronger than the former. He became the King of Hell in only 387 years. He worked his ass off to keep his position, the older demons angered by his ability to take over after, compared to them, a short amount of time. He proved his worth though, beating down those that oppose him and changing the order in which things are done. He fixed the workroom making it run smoother and hired more demon workers. It made scheduling easier and the workers more in love with their jobs. He created a better hierarchy. He's in charge.

Ivan takes a seat in the chair across from Francis now. He's got a soft smile on his face that seems out of place at the center of Hell. Ivan flips through a few papers that appear in his hands at the flick of his wrist. Francis continues to look at his own files, scratching down new orders and areas where the residents should be. He runs his tongue over his teeth and a young girl's punishment is decided. She had been a prostitute in her living life, killing a man who tried to force her to do something she didn't like. She kept killing after that. Francis liked her a lot already. He gave her a few decades of solitary confinement to shake her nerves. Then training for succubus status for another decade or so. She would make a fine temptress.

"I heard something interesting today," Ivan's old Russian accent breaks the silence of ruffling papers. Francis hums and looks up to him. Ivan is still glancing through his work, making marks when necessary in a black pen.

"I heard that your old manager Alfred is now the High Archangel," Ivan lifts his gaze to smile at him. Once more, Francis is caught off guard by the coldness in Ivan's eyes. He simply raises an eyebrow at the words.

"Is he now? Good for him the little bastard," Francis snickers. He flips through more papers. A slightly pinker tinted page catching his eye. Ivan giggles and stands from his seat.

"I would love to see that innocent smile of his _break_ ," Francis does his best not to shudder at Ivan's words. He waves lazily as the man leaves to continue on his job. Ivan had only come to tell him the news. Francis rolls his eyes and throws the papers over his shoulder scattering them all over the floor. Except for the pink tainted one. He flips it back and forth in his hands. He smirks at the circular inscription written on it. He's known this symbol for some time. He just wondered what it looked like on paper and not in his head. It's his inscription, his summoning circle. He's been summoned before as a sex demon. It had been fun. He got sex for granting small wishes for people. Most of the time those wishes backfired. Sometimes he laughed at their misery. Other times he never stuck around long enough to see the world fall apart beneath them.

He takes the paper in his hand and stands. He darkens the windows to his office with a wave of his hand, a notion that he does not want to be bothered. He places the pink paper on the ground. There's only one reason he would get his own summoning circle. Someone has it in the living world. Someone that is close to being able to make it work. He stands above it and waits. He closes his eyes and focuses. He can barely make out the poor soul in his mind. He smirks viciously to himself. This person has no idea just who they are summoning. He's never been summoned as a the King.

He can hear their voice now, a low raspy thing, deep. He opens his eyes and the voice is still there, chanting a French incantation. Francis enjoys the sound of his mother tongue. It's been too long since he spoke it for himself. The paper on the floor begins to crumple in on itself. A slow stream of red smoke begins to creep out of the folds. Francis steps forward. He knows he can not stop the oncoming summon. There are just some things even the King can't stop. It's a contract since the age of days. The human summons them, and they grant a wish in return for something else. In the end the human loses more.

The smoke grows in size and swallows his body. He lets it roll over him and hug his skin. It pulls. His body breaks down and turns to black soot to flow with tug of smoke. He lets himself be moved along. It doesn't take long to reach his destination. The voice is louder now, speaking with more conviction. Francis stitches his body back together, the red smoke still around him, a swirling mass. Then it breaks. Francis spreads his wings wide, throwing his arms out as well. He taps his feet to the ground. He rolls his neck this way and that, taking in a deep breath of the living air around him. He smirks and opens his eyes to see the one that called him out.

Francis folds his arms over his chest and smiles to the man on the ground. He likes the look of them already. The man is staring bug eyed at him, leaning back on his hands with a book opened on his lap. He's wearing a dark green sweater vest. Francis glances around him. There's his circle on the ground, painted on with purple ink. He turns around the room, appreciating the candles to create the mood, though they are unnecessary. He raises an eyebrow at the furniture covered near the far end of the room. It takes him a second to realize he's standing in the living room of the one who summoned him. He faces back to the man still gaping at him. His blonde hair is spotted with brown and his eyes are an alarming green. Francis thinks the most amusing thing is the large size of his eyebrows. He can barely contain his smiles.

"Well, this is exciting isn't it?" He teases. He pulls his wings in close and steps towards the man. The summoner backs away from him breathing heavily. Francis's smile falters. He glowers down at the man. He knows that seeing a demon in real life can be a shock, but who did this summoner expect to show up? The tooth fairy? Francis sighs and kneels to the ground in front of his contractor. He locks eyes with the green eyed man. The summoner blinks twice, huffing out as best he can.

"Bloody hell you're real," the man stammers out. Francis smirks at him. So the man does talk. Francis crawls over to him letting his wings spread out over the man. The summoner backs away more but Francis is faster. Soon he is leaning over the man, a mischievous smile on his face. He opens his mouth to speak but the human puts his hands on Francis's face and pushes it away. He skitters away from Francis, backing up to the wall. Francis chuckles out. None of his other summoners ever pushed him away. At least, not like that.

Francis leans back on his hands and makes himself comfortable on the floor. He runs his fingers through the plush feel of the carpet. Most of the time he's summoned in an alleyway or in an abandoned house. This is new. The room he's in is furnished nicely. And carpeted. He fingers the paint on the floor. Such a pretty place to ruin. He smiles at the summoner, now running their hands through their hair.

"Oh shit, it worked. Oh I did it holy shit." The person leans down to their knees, covering their mouth with their hand. Francis smiles wider. So the person hadn't expected to see him. Brilliant.

"Yes you did it, congratulations," Francis snickers. He doesn't entirely mind the person taking their time. He's got nothing terribly important to do. Ivan can handle a day or two running the place while he's gone. He doesn't want to be away for longer than that though. Ivan might take things a little too far. The summoner stares at him with wide eyes. Then they close their eyes and shake their head roughly.

"Would you like something to drink?" Out of all the questions he could have been asked, that is one of the last ones Francis expected. The summoner is rubbing at his arms awkwardly, looking at him almost hopefully.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Francis forces out with a smile. He flaps his wings once to lift him to his feet. The summoner nods his head mechanically and rushes out of the room. Francis debates following the man, but he really doesn't care to. Instead he takes a seat on one of the covered couches and waits. There are some posters on the wall of bands he doesn't know of. There are books on the shelves of spells and demons, those he knows of. The man comes back with two glasses of water. He hands one to Francis and steps away sharply once it's out of his hands. He sits on the floor and leans back against another piece of covered furniture.

Francis stays silent. So does the summoner. He sips his water slowly. He much prefers the taste of wine, seeing as he can no longer get drunk and can drink whatever he pleases, but the water is strangely refreshing for him. He does wish to question the hospitality given to him. His other summoners asked for favors the moment they knew they could. This one has barely spoken to him. He tilts his head to the side and watches the human. Their eyes glance back and forth across the ground and their expression twists up. Francis wonders if they are schizophrenic. He's handled people with mental disorders before. Most of them go to Hell. He hates that. Heaven's strict rules aren't as accommodating. He's built a special section of Hell for those with mental disorders that change their way of thinking drastically. Plenty of therapists have come through hell, he puts them to work with those in need. Schizophrenics can't help their actions, they are plagued by their own demons. Francis can't stand to see the truly innocent punished.

"I'm sorry," He blinks at the apology. The man is gripping his glass of water tightly. Francis tilts his head to the other side in question. He doesn't understand why the human is apologizing. For a second those green eyes connect with his. The man swallows and continues.

"I mean, if I.. summoned you here, in the middle of something, important? I'm sorry." Francis smiles at the man. They are holding their water tight to their chest.

"No worries, I had nothing serious planned," He waves his hand flippantly. It's true, he didn't. Papers will pile up and maybe there will be an explosion of sorts, but nothing Ivan can't handle. If he really needs help, Gilbert will make an appearance. Francis can't return to the demon world unless told he can by the summoner. The man releases a sigh of relief. Francis downs the rest of his water and stands.

"Now, getting down to business," He smiles widely at the sudden bout of fear in the man's eyes. The man drinks the rest of his water quickly as well, but stands much more timidly than Francis.

"What do you wish for?" Francis asks, making his tone as silky smooth as possible. His first job in hell being a incubus, it remains to be his strongest style of power. The man shakes his head violently, getting the effect of Francis out of his head. The demon's smile turns to a smirk.

"I just.." The man starts. Francis bites his lip. The man rubs at his arms, grimacing at the ground. Francis raises an eyebrow at him. He hasn't seen this much uncertainty in someone in a while. The man takes a deep breath and lifts his head to face Francis straight on.

"I just wanted a friend," Francis blinks at the man then. The man suddenly drops his confidence glancing back to the floor. Francis rubs his tongue against his teeth.

"A friend?" He repeats, not knowing how to handle the request. Sure he could force someone to be this man's friend, but he needs specifics.

"I just want someone to talk to, for a little while." It's now that Francis takes in the man's age. They are young, he can tell. The furniture being covered and the few things on the walls. It's starting to come together for him. This man has just moved.

"I can make all your neighbors love you with just a snap of my fingers," Francis offers. The man glances at him but shakes his head. Now it's Francis's turn to grimace. He can't help if the man doesn't tell him what he can do.

"Well what do you want then?" He tries hard to keep the bitter tone out of his voice. He knows he doesn't have anywhere to be, but he doesn't like wasting time. The man winces at the harshness. Francis takes a deep breath. The man tugs at a lock of his hair.

"Can you stay? And just.. Talk to me? Be my friend?" For one of the first times in his demonic life, Francis takes in a hopeful look on a man's face. It takes him just a second longer to realize that the summoner is asking him to stick around and talk. Be a friend? Francis rakes a hand through his hair, letting his nails maybe help put some sense into his head.

"For how long?" He asks, looking skeptically at the summoner. The human jumps a little at the question, a soft smile breaking on his face for a moment.

"As long as you can?" Francis pulls at his bottom lip in thought. The human is still giving him that hopeful expression. He blows his hair out of his face.

"I can stay for a full 48 hours, then on and off for a month after that." The human lets a smile cross their face and a sigh of relief leave them. Francis smiles at them.

"If that is your wish I will grant it. You will go to Hell though." This makes the summoner pause. He furrows his brows in a way that Francis is quickly taking a liking to.

"You mean, if I don't ask you to stay, I won't go to Hell?" Francis hums and rubs at his chin. He shrugs.

"Summoning me took more energy out of you than me, that's the price paid to get me here. Asking me to stay becomes your wish, the price for that is your soul. So yes. I believe so. I would leave right away if that is the case however," Francis shrugs again and makes a motion to leave. The summoner boldly stops him with a hand to his chest. Francis blinks down at him, making the human puff up in a soft blush and push him a small bit away.

"I.. Can you stay while I figure it out?" He mumbles. Francis hmms in mock debate.

"No." He moves to walk around the human, a smirk on his face. He stops when there's a grabbing at his wrist. He glances over his shoulder. The human is glaring at the floor, his hands wrapped tightly around Francis's arm.

"I.. Would.. I wish you would stay with me.. For as long as you can.. Please." He turns those deep green eyes up to him. Francis stares. He's been an incubus for about three hundred years and yet certain things still catch him off guard with their beauty. He turns to face the human fully. He smiles and holds a hand out to the human, his eyes flashing in excitement. The summoner gulps and takes the hand, letting the demon pull him closer. Francis holds the human flush to him, making him stumble in shock though his eyes never leave the demon in front of him. Francis snickers.

A soft glow of red mist swirls around their feet. Francis can't help but throw his head back and laugh. He loves this part. The human holds tighter to him and he can feel a soft rush go through his veins. He puts his forehead to the green eyed man's.

"You have summoned me by your own will and ask of me what you do not have. I shall grant your wish in exchange for your soul." Francis lets the words pass his lips in the dark voice he reserves only for such moments. The summoner's eyes widen in horror. The mist dissolves. Francis gently runs a hand through the human's hair to help them relax. He is breathing heavily, glancing all around his feet for the mist that is now gone. Francis nuzzles his nose.

"You know, we have to seal the contract." He purrs to the human. They pull away, giving him a skeptical look. Francis is giddy at the puzzled look on his face. He chuckles and leans towards the human.

"Since being an incubus is my namesake, the contract is bound with a kiss," He winks. the summoner glowers at him. He pushes away from Francis roughly. Francis throws his head back in laughter when they starts to sputter out negation to the idea of kissing him. Francis stops his ranting by hugging him close.

"I have never forced someone to do anything they do not like, I will not start with you." He confirms to his summoner. They put their hands on Francis's face and push him away. Francis laughs and snaps his fingers making his wings disappear from sight. His clothes become more appropriate for the human world. He ditches the shoes and goes for a basic pair of black sweats. His ripped shirt transforming into a stitched together black one similar to Ivan's. He flops back onto the couch. The human takes his seat on the floor again, more relaxed this time, spreading his legs out more so and leaning against the furniture once more.

"What's your name?" Francis asks. He brings up his legs to the couch to lounge fully. It's not as comfortable as his bed back in his room, but it's nice enough.

"Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." The human is finally looking at him fully. France supposes it's because he doesn't look as intimidating anymore. He hums. Arthur.

"What's yours?" Francis chuckles a little at the question. Arthur is looking at him expectantly.

"Francis," He tugs at a strand of his hair, twisting it between his fingers. Arthur takes his empty glass in his hand. He spins the cup in circles.

"What do you do? As a demon I mean." Arthur pulls his legs up tight and rests his chin against his knees. Francis smirks down at him. Maybe this human can handle the truth. He sees no point in lying.

"I run the joint, the boss you could say. The technical title would be the King of Hell." He chuckles at the shock on Arthur's face. Suddenly the human jumps up and begins pacing. Muttering to himself the whole time.

"I summoned the King of Hell. I just thought I would summon a simple not as important demon but _no_. No if you have be a freak you have to go all the way _don't_ you Arthur. Of _course_ you do." The human grimaces and tugs at his hair. Francis simply watches with a raised eyebrow. He's seen people before have panic attacks. He debates if helping the human will lessen his demon status. He stands abruptly in front of the human, grabbing their face in his hands.

"Breathe," He commands lowly. Arthur's eyes go wide, but his body commands. He calms. Francis guides him to the couch and settles down into it once again. He pulls Arthur against him and wraps his arms around the still shaking human. Cuddles are always good things to have. He doesn't get them often since the demons he cuddles with usually end up moaning his name and then leaving.

"How did you do that?" Arthur asks quietly once he's breathing properly again. Francis hums and runs a hand lazily through Arthur's dirty blonde hair.

"Panic attack. Easy to get people to-"

"That's not what I meant," Arthur interrupts him. Francis twitches in annoyance. People don't interrupt him without consequence. Usually. He grits his teeth to keep himself from saying something he'll regret, or accidentally snapping Arthur in half.

"How did you.. cut off my senses like that? Like the only thing I could think was you?" Arthur shifts uncomfortably against Francis. The demon chuckles again. So that's what the human meant.

"It's a simple voice trick, mainly used by incubus and succubus like myself." He informs the human. Arthur twists his face. He sits up to look down at Francis.

"I thought you said you were the King?" Arthur is giving him an odd look. Francis rolls his eyes with a smile. He puts a hand to Arthur's head and pulls him back to his chest.

"I wasn't the King at first, I had to work my way up." He pets Arthur as he explains his journey through the ranks, starting with his training days. He had to work days and days just practicing speaking in low tones till he could get a human to follow him from across town. Then spent more time making sure he could do it consecutively and without thinking about it too much. Arthur nods along to his tale, seemingly absorbed in his words. Not because Francis is using his sultry voice, but because he likes that someone is talking to him. Francis tells him of his first test job on a young boy who went to a club for the first time. He stood at the far end and stared the boy down. Halfway through the night, he noticed a succubus trailing his same target. He watched as she took the boy on the dance floor and twisted him around his finger. Francis made his move, walking up to them and tapping the boy on the shoulder and stealing him away. He rocked that boys world, and won the competition he didn't even know he entered.

"Do you remember his name?" Arthur asks once Francis finishes speaking. He wonders if he's breaking any sort of unknown rule by telling this human of the ways of Hell. The human will end up there anyway having summoned him, so there shouldn't be much harm.

"Lovino," Francis smiles to himself. The boy had been feisty and rough. That always happened to be the day Francis realized his powers heightened the arousal of humans.

"Did you ever see him again?" Francis hums to the Arthur's question. It's unheard of to visit old flames, though some sex demons do.

"Once, when he got married. A sweet man by the name of Antonio I believe. I think they both went to heaven." Francis recalls the wedding. Gorgeous and red. Lovino looked happy as he could. Francis stayed in the shadows, not wanting to ruin the now a man's happy day. Arthur humphs.

"So then you became the King of Hell how?" Arthur reaches up his hand to hold Francis's. Okay, so maybe the demon is using a little bit of his charm to get the human to be more cuddly with him. The human is not resisting him though, so it can't be that bad. He lets Arthur play with his fingers.

"One day my wings grew larger than the Old King. It was pointed out by my.. Friend." Francis scrunches his face up. He wouldn't entirely consider Ivan his friend. Maybe his partner in crime, but friends? He didn't truly trust Ivan like one would a friend. He rolls his eyes to himself.

"So me and the Old King fought for power. I won." He grips his hand into a fist. Arthur uncurls his fingers though.

"You had to fight?" Francis scoffs at his question. It's like he didn't expect demons to fight. That's all they ever really did. Fight for food. Fight for power. For survival.

"Yes, though, I have reason to believe he lost on purpose." He rubs at his face in thought. Arthur sits up and blinks at him, confusion clear on his face. Francis sighs and explains.

"The old king, Gilbert, had been in charge for hundreds of years. When we fought he should have been more.. adept to fighting. I think he lost on purpose." Arthur sits up fully then, glaring at the floor in front of him. Francis brings his arms up to fold underneath his head.

"Why would he do that?" Arthur looks to Francis, curiosity on his face. Francis shrugs his shoulders.

"Gilbert grew up a chaos demon, specializing in screwing life up for people. He had a knack for ruining things. I think he ruined himself on accident. He spends most of his time in the welcoming rooms." Arthur opens his mouth to respond, but closes it, glaring at Francis. The demon waits patiently for him to find the words to speak.

"There are welcoming rooms?" Francis can't help but smile at the complete confusion in Arthur's voice. He pushes up and bumps into the human.

"Of course, there is a demon there by the name of Matthew I know. Very nice boy. Don't know why he's there at all," Francis glares at the floor now. Matthew has wings similar to his, and Gilbert's. He knows it's a sign of the Fallen. They all have stronger wings than those originally sent to hell. They chose to leave heaven, making them stronger in their powers. It's one of the only reasons Francis managed to gain his title.

"Nice people go to Hell?" Arthur pulls his legs up to hold them close. Francis nods.

"Some very nice people do. It just depends mostly. Some murderers kill those they think have done wrong. It's their inability to admit they did wrong that sent them to Hell." Francis lifts his arms up, casually placing one behind Arthur. The human has his brows furrowed in thought, taking in the information Francis just provided him with.

"Tell me about Matthew," Arthur says softly, giving him another one of those hopeful looks. Francis scoffs, but smiles. Arthur leans back against his shoulder, getting comfortable.

"Matthew is a greeter to Hell. Very patient when dealing with those who can't accept death. He tells people what their punishments are," Francis rubs his hand against the human's shoulder. Arthur fiddles with his fingers.

"How did he end up there?"

"He fell." Francis shrugs. Arthur jolts up to stare at him as if it's some big revelation.

"Fell? Like fell from Heaven?" Francis can't help but snicker at the disbelief in Arthur's face. He positive that someone who can summon a demon, the King even, has heard of Fallen Angels before.

"Why did he leave?" Arthur wiggles back into Francis's side. The demon hums in thought, trying to figure out the best way to say.

"He.. Fell in love with the wrong person. Which in the end turned out to be the right person for him," Francis smirks down at the human. Arthur is once again processing the information with his eyebrows furrowed. Francis remembers going to tell Matthew that he had been right, his wings had been bigger, and stronger, than Gilbert's. Only Gilbert had beat him to the welcoming rooms. Matthew and Gilbert were tied up in each other, smiles on both their faces. Francis didn't have to be a incubus to know why Gilbert lost.

After that he found Gilbert roaming around the halls of the underground. Now that he has no position, having been stripped of his title, Francis offered him a job. The two of them reformed hell, making it easier for those that work to navigate and finding new workers. He told Gilbert that he could basically do what he wanted, since there's not a lot of people who can actually tell the mischievous demon otherwise. Gilbert chose to go to earth a lot and mess things up for bad people, and spend plenty of time in the welcome rooms. Francis could almost, almost, consider the old King a friend.

"Demons can fall in love?" Arthur nearly sounds disgusted as the words leave his mouth. Francis snickers again.

"Just because we work in Hell doesn't mean we can't feel. Unless you're part of the high end torturers." Francis shudders openly at the memory of Ivan's cold calculating eyes. He sure that if Gilbert had ever lost his position to anyone else, it would be Ivan.

"Are there other.. Fallen Angels in Hell?" Arthur picks his words carefully. Francis nods with a low 'mhmm'. Arthur sniffs.

"What do they do?" Francis laughs at that. Arthur puffs up at the noise. He crosses his arms with a huff. Francis nuzzles his head again the human's shoulder in apology.

"You're assuming they do something special. The only difference between the Fallen and the originally sent to Hell demons is their wings." Francis wiggles out from behind the human and stands up. He shakes a little and snaps. His wings unfurl from behind him. He spins around to show off the size. With the full wingspan outstretched, the tips of his wings nearly touch the edges of the room. He smirks over his shoulder to the human. Arthur gulps and stands from his spot. He comes close and studies the wings.

"Regular demon's wings are smaller and not as thick. They are not as strong. Wings show status and power." Francis raises one up to turn and encase Arthur within his wings. Arthur flinches at the sudden movement. Francis doesn't move waiting for the human to become comfortable once again. He bites the inside of his lip realizing it probably looked like he would hurt the human.

"You can touch them if you want," He offers with a shrug. Arthur gulps again. He reaches out a hand cautiously. Francis suppresses a shudder at the touch of fingertips. Arthur is gentle and interested in his wings, a different sensation than he's used to. Most of those that touch his wings do so in praise or in the heat of the moment. Francis spreads his wings out the closer Arthur gets to him. The human ducks under them to trace over the back. Francis inhales sharply. Arthur jerks back.

"You said regular demon.. Are you not because you're the King?" Arthur ducks back under his wings to stand in front of him again. He fingers the ends when Francis pulls them closer.

"They're aren't different because I'm the King, but they sure did help me become the King." Arthur yanks his hand back with hiss. He sucks at the appendage. Francis takes a step forward and grabs Arthur's hand. He licks at the cut on his finger. Arthur hisses again, and the cut heals.

"I'm Fallen too," Francis smirks up at him, his eyes flashing dangerously. Arthur gulps and pulls away from him. Francis snaps his fingers to make his wings disappear. He and Arthur sit back on the couch.

"Why did you.." Arthur trails off. Francis raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. Arthur shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I didn't like it up there, too many rules and not enough.." Francis doesn't finish his sentence. There are so many things he expected Heaven to be that it just wasn't. He shrugs to complete his words. Arthur nods once in understanding.

"Did you do something in Heaven too? Like a job?" Arthur wiggles in his spot, bringing his legs up to his stomach once again. Francis pulls a cliché yawn over the shoulder arm trick. The human snuggles into his shoulder, so he figures it's fine. Not that he'd care if it wasn't.

"Well because I was kind of a slut in my human life, I was tasked with helping children get through puberty in a safe way. It's also part of the reason I was an incubus first in my demon life as well." Francis sticks his tongue out in amusement. It seemed the beginning of all his lives have to deal with sex.

"Oh, that sounds really nice actually," Arthur gives him a shy smile. Francis smiles back at him. It had been nice helping the children accept themselves.

"I got to do pretty much the same thing as an incubus," Francis shrugs. Secretly helping kids towards a better place accepting themselves sexually and then taking them for his own were almost no different. He wiggles into the couch to get more comfortable. Arthur follows suit.

"Enough about me little summoner, tell me about yourself," Francis leans over to him and nuzzles his shoulder. Arthur laughs awkwardly, pushing at Francis's face. Francis smiles at him, but the smile slips off his face. Arthur is grimacing at the ground and unresponsive. He pauses. The human is not speaking. Francis glares in his direction. Only now does he wonder why the human summoned him.

"Arthur, this may sound bad- me being the King of Hell and all- but you can tell me anything. I'm contractually obligated to keep your secrets." Francis bites his tongue after talking. He and Arthur haven't discussed anything relating to the contract that comes with summoning. He doesn't know anything yet about his human except his name. Part of him is bugged by this. Mostly bugged by the part that wants to know more about his human.

"Contractually obligated..?" Arthur turns his disbelieving eyes to Francis. The demons clenches his jaw. He likes the forest color of Arthur's eyes. He forces a smile onto his face, hoping it doesn't frighten the human. Arthur doesn't flinch away from him. He points to the runes painted onto the floor.

"When you summoned me, it created a small contract between us. Then of course, when you made your wish. I am yours to command until you release me. The only price you pay is your soul. You're going to Hell." Francis nearly flinches himself with the ease of which he can tell someone their going to Hell. Arthur folds in on himself, squeezing his legs tight to his chest and burying his chin into his knees. Francis just watches him take in the information.

"I'm.. Going to Hell." Arthur whispers the words, more statement like than questioning. Francis nods once in confirmation. He already said this, maybe now it's just sinking in. Arthur turns his head down to hide his face. It takes a second but he starts to shake. Francis's eyes widen. He didn't expect the human to start crying, but he figures it's probably a natural reaction to finding you're going to the place of eternal damnation. He reaches out a hand to maybe comfort Arthur, but the human surprises him, lifting his head up and laughing. Francis stares at him wide eyed.

"All this time I thought I was already living in Hell," Arthur giggles into his hand, his shoulder shaking. Francis feels a smile creep onto his face. There have been very few times he thought a human to be attractive since his incubus days. He rather likes the smile of Arthur's face though. Arthur calms down and smile at him. Francis leans back and opens his arms in an inviting way. He uses none of charms to get the human to snuggle in against his chest. Arthur sighs in content at the arms around him.

"I.. I've been. So alone. Most of my life." Arthur tugs at his hair, speaking mostly into Francis's chest. The demon stays quiet, waiting for the human to continue. It's not his time to speak.

"It may not be a very long life, compared to yours, but I never had many friends. Barely any that I could play with as a kid or hang out with as a teenager." Arthur gives out a shaky laugh. Francis holds him just a little tighter.

"So when I moved here I was hoping to make some new friends, meet new people, but it didn't work out like that." Arthur continues. Francis runs a hand through the human's hair in a soothing manner. Arthur begins to shake.

"All the kids I grew up with made fun of me or called me names. There's not even someone who pitied me enough to be friends with me." Arthur's shaking increases and Francis holds him as tight as he can without hurting him. Arthur starts to cry tears into his shirt, but the demon doesn't mind. He holds his human close, rubbing small circles on his back to calm him. Arthur doesn't stop crying for another ten minutes. He blubbers out about his childhood for Francis to hear, confident that this demon will not tell his life's story.

Arthur's parents had divorced when he turned seven. His father had died shortly after he turned eight. His mother had done her best as single parent to raise him. They had to move many times for her to stay in a stable place. She did her best to save money and work so he could attend school with good clothes. Arthur never asked for much in return to make it easier for her. He asked her, begged her not to go out at night to work the streets. She died in the middle of his junior year of high school due to some robbery gone wrong on the block she worked on. Francis does his best to remember the mother's name, if she came through his gates. He doesn't. She must have gone to Heaven. Probably.

Arthur spent his childhood trying to make friends. Most of the kids knew of his struggles and stayed away anyway. Arthur never had much place to wash himself and stay clean. He tried hard though to make friends anyway. His lonely middle school years morphed into depressed high school years. He didn't feel right walking through the halls. No one really bullied him, but no one talked to him either. He could talk to his mother and help her out. He got a job to support himself more, working at the local department store so they could get discounts on their clothes. He tried so hard to make it easier on her. When she died his world fell to pieces. He couldn't support the rinky apartment they lived in and go to school at the same time.

One of the teachers whose classes he did exceptionally well in offered up their spare bedroom for him however. He worked so hard to stay out of their way. He studied and worked more than necessary for a child his age. He got promoted and got enough scholarships to come to the town he's in now to go to college for free. He still works more than he should, working his body hard and not getting nearly enough sleep. But he gets by and can support himself. He's in his senior year of college, studying to be a business major, and the manager at the local department store down the street.

"So out of all the things you could have asked for, your mother back, money enough to last you a lifetime and then some, the chemicals in your brain in balance making it easier for you to be happy, to never have to work another day again, and you choose friendship?" Francis teases the human in his arms. Arthur grumbles something angrily at him. His tears still not making it easy to talk. Arthur pushes his face away after not making his anger clear enough in words. It makes Francis chuckle more. The human is a bit of a spitfire even when down. He could appreciate that.

"My mother wouldn't want me to dwell on the past, and I think I can get by well enough with money. I don't want to be greedy. I just.. I want someone to talk with me. That's my wish." Arthur leans up to blink down at the demon. Francis tilts his head, taking in the appearance of the human. Arthur's green eyes are red around the edges along with his cheeks. He rubs at his nose. Francis smiles at him.

Arthur gets them fresh glasses of water, giving Francis a minor tour of the apartment. It's small. One bedroom, one bath, and a small kitchen area. Francis pokes around the fridge. He doesn't need to eat or drink really, but it's fun to do sometimes. Arthur hands him the glass. They stay in the kitchen to talk. Francis hops onto the counter while Arthur leans up against the edge near him.

Francis tells him a little bit about before he died. He lived in an older period of time in France. He loved to flirt with the girls and had no problems flirting with the men as well. He had taken many of them to bed. He died of disease, probably sexually transmitted, not that he cared. He went to Heaven. He speaks just a little of his time there. He tells of the children he helped and the way the higher angels didn't like the way he lingered. He tells of Alfred and how his old boss managed to gain the High Archangel position.

"What was it like? To fall?" Arthur sips his water slowly. Francis sighs. He figured the human would ask.

"Burning mostly. Scratching all over. I broke a bone or six." Francis dismisses Arthur's concerned look. He's perfectly fine now. It's been so long since someone willingly tried to hurt him.

"You said that one boy.. Matthew was it? Is your friend? Do you have other friends?" This question makes Francis laugh. Maybe there are those he can consider partners in crime or close acquaintances, but friends? He doesn't know much about that. Matthew is close to him, and Gilbert has proved to not give a damn about his old position. Ivan has yet to try and surpass him.

"Friend is.. Such an odd term to use for Hell." Francis snickers. Arthur spins his glass in circles in his hands. Francis watches him and decides to give the best answer he can.

"I do talk to others, those some might consider friends. There is Matthew yes, the greeter. Gilbert, the old King is not bad. Very fun when you're in the mood. Then there is Ivan, the High Demon of Torture." Arthur spits up his water at the title. Francis smiles at him. It's so typical for him to have people with odd titles like that. He forgot that being the chief of torture is not a common job description in the human world.

"High Demon.. Of Torture?" Arthur gasps out. Francis nods. He stretches his arms up.

"Ruthless man, very good at his job." Francis closes his eyes, giving a single sharp nod in approval. It's true. No one can be as cold as Ivan and harm thousands of people yet still be fine at the end of the day. Francis could never do that, he's too soft. He'll admit it. Ivan has told him so as well, mostly when he made the gentle areas for those who couldn't help their mental states. He and Ivan fought over it. Francis came out the winner, being the stronger of the two. Ivan had a blizzard in his eyes. Francis told him to stand down. Ivan did. They've been on better terms since then.

"When I go to Hell," Arthur starts. He gulps. Francis raises an eyebrow at him.

"Where will I go?" Francis hums and stares at the ceiling. He wonders where Arthur would have gone on his own. Probably Heaven, a hard working boy like himself. Might have been one of the better angels, even if he only ended up a low level one. Arthur, since his soul is now bound to the underground, will most likely pass through some paperwork. The ones that just die get to wait longer, it's a part of that whole waiting pain idea.

"You will be sent to a special section of Hell for your own personal torture, most likely. Probably the ghost rooms. Or solitary confinement." Francis smiles down at Arthur like what he said didn't sound terrible in anyway. Arthur simply blinks at him before putting his glass down roughly.

"How can you say that so casually? Do you feel any regret in hurting people?" Arthur is glaring at him. Francis just keeps smiling. Arthur is alive in his anger.

"Most of the people in torture deserve it in my opinion. Those who don't get work." He shrugs. Many times those who don't deserve Hell get put in lackey jobs, filing through papers and people and making sure tools are clean and the rooms are neat. Checking in as well as taking souls that are ready to be reborn once they have been beaten into submission. They are guides and the underlings.

"Work? You mean, I could work in Hell?" Arthur has calmed down, now drinking his water again. He's still got a worrisome look in his eyes.

"Of course. It's all just work really. What do you think Matthew's job is? He tells people they are in Hell." Francis chuckles. He remembers meeting Matthew for the first time. The sweet young boy had been one of the few to take him to see Gilbert as King. After Francis's punishment was determined, Matthew guided him to his torture room. The one after that, and the one after that as well. He also took him to the training grounds. He's the one who pointed out the wing difference in Gilbert and himself. Also told him about their wings in general. Matthew had knocked him around when he insulted the King. He's stronger than he looks.

"Can I greet others as well?" Francis hums at the question. Arthur as a greeter would work, but he would need to be stronger.

"Possibly, you might be put higher up with your knowledge of business. The training is almost worse than the actual torture." Francis grimaces. So many years in training, more than any he spent in designated torture. Arthur scowls at the ground.

"Will I work for you?" The question is quiet but Francis hears it all the same. He lets a twisted smirk cross his face.

"Everyone works for me." His tone is dark and Arthur shudders though he tries to hide his reaction. He cautiously asks questions about the jobs, and mildly the torture too. Francis gives the best descriptions he can, seeing as he went through all of it, without scaring the human too much. Solitary confinement is endless, you have no sense of time and the ones in charge change the size of the room you wander in. Sexual displeasure is reserved for rapists and child abusers. Ghost rooms make you feel like you are surrounded but invisible and ignored by the people around you. Physical torture is just painful, your body does not deteriorate and you do not pass out. You sit in agony. The fear rooms show your biggest fear, and even then make you fear more. It's called torture for a reason.

"Why did you have to go through all that? You're bringing new meaning to the phrase 'to Hell and back' you know." Arthur had given into the night and made tea for himself. He sips a hot cup now. Francis is laying on his stomach across the countertop. He's debating reaching out to play with Arthur's blonde locks. Never before has he stopped from giving into his desires, especially one as petty as touching someone else's hair. He huffs.

"Gilbert devised the plan to make sure I could handle being King. The boy went through the same thing I did when he took over Hell from the ruler before him." Arthur hums low now in response. Francis smiles. He's been doing that a lot with Arthur. He does like the human, that much is clear to him. The part that bugs him is the itching urge to not use his powers on the human to get them to like him more. It's not the first time he's wanted someone to like him powerless. It probably won't be the last either. He does want to see Arthur squirm beneath him though, cause he's positive Arthur squirms.

"That sounds.. Nice. In a complete round about way." Arthur sips his tea. Francis scoffs.

"Yes, nice. For a trouble making lunatic asshole, he makes decent company." Arthur chuckles at that. Francis gives in and reaches out a hand to twirl a bit of Arthur's hair around his finger. The human tenses to the touch at first. Francis doesn't stop though. Arthur's hair is softer than he thought. The human takes a deep breath and relaxes. Francis feels accomplished.

"So what do you do as King?" Arthur glances at him. He hands over his cup of tea to share. Francis leans up to take a drink of the beverage. It's not bad, though not something he could drink often.

"I make final decisions on torture choices for certain people as well as make sure the branches are running smoothly. I also meet with the angels to discuss matters of souls. I will probably have to meet with them about you, if you prove to be a far better person in your life." Francis smirks at the human. Arthur shifts uncomfortably at the subtle praise. He snatches back his tea and downs the rest of it. Only a few times has Francis had to debate a soul. A lesser demon or such made a deal with a human whose life turned out far better and more heavenly than expected. He had to talk to the angels that looked after the human. The debates don't usually last long. Francis tells the human exactly what would happen if they went to Hell, the angels tell them what would happen if they went to Heaven. The lesser demons complain mostly. Most of the time, when a person learns their soul will go to Hell, they stop caring and make it more so that their soul will be damned. Francis has only ever let a soul go once. A sweet young girl who worked her hardest for her family. The lesser demon she made a deal with annoyed him too. She's a guardian angel now, or so he's heard.

Arthur yawns suddenly and now does Francis realize the sky getting brighter. They've stayed up most of the night. Francis guides Arthur back to the room and onto the couch. He pets Arthur's hair until he falls asleep. He has to stay with the human for a full 48 hours, then he can go on and off for the next 30 days. He sits right by Arthur on the floor waiting for the human to wake up. He doesn't need sleep. It can waste time but it's not necessary. He lays on the floor and tries to relax enough to doze off. Demons don't sleep in public places, it's too exposing. He'll take his risks.

* * *

He wakes with a start, sitting up immediately. A blanket falls off his shoulders. He blinks down at the garment. His internal body clock is messed up. Human time concepts are so weird. He shakes his head hard and pushes off the floor. It's been so long since he's slept on such a hard surface. He wanders about the house in search for the human. Instead he finds a scrap piece of paper. Arthur has left for the morning to go to work. Francis scoffs and goes back to the couch Arthur occupied earlier. He flops down and flicks his wrist. A stack of papers appear on his lap and he sets to work. There is a paper among them from Ivan asking his whereabouts. He tells of the summoning and how he will be back on and off for the next 30 days or so.

He works through the files, dictating punishments and approving or disapproving of new punishment plans. There are some details about adding new rooms for every sector of punishment. There might be some sub levels of punishment added so that certain people get exactly what they deserve. He taps his pen to his lips. The fear sector wants to add more rooms in general to their insect and height areas. There is also a demand for a new wave room for those afraid of the ocean. Torture employees need more tools, the rusting ones are nice for scare tactics but clean ones cut better. The greeters need more filing cabinets. Francis sighs. He doesn't know why some of these things need his approval. He is in charge of the layout of hell, so he supposes that's why. No wonder Gilbert didn't want to be King, this is so menial and he's more active. Francis doesn't mind. He scribbles the okay for a succubus to try and tempt a country leader.

"Francis?" He smiles to himself when he hears the front door open. He can hear Arthur making his way through the house and to the room he now occupies. The human appears in the doorway and Francis can see him release a breath of relief. Francis can't help but smirk at him. It must be nice to have someone to come home to, even if it is only for a few days. Arthur removes his tie and drops his briefcase on his way to sit next to Francis on the couch.

"What is that?" Arthur asks nodding his head at the files. Francis crosses one leg over the other.

"My work. Plans and punishments." He flips a few papers so Arthur can see. The human scrutinizes the words. He will have a file just like this once he dies.

"Have you ever heard of Arctic Monkeys?" Arthur asks suddenly. Francis gives him a puzzled look, trying hard not to blatantly stare at his eyes. He shakes his head slowly. Arthur breaks into an excited smile. He skips on over to a box and pulls out a computer. He boots up the machine and Francis stands to lean over the shoulder. Arthur taps a few more buttons and a song is playing. Francis drops to his knees next to his human. He closes his eyes to listen. He likes the music Arthur plays for him. It's different from the music he listens to, the screams of the people being tortured.

The human plays all sorts of music. There's a song that plays and Francis wants to dance. He pulls Arthur up and holds him tight as he twirls them around the room. Arthur is awkward at first, unsure of his footing, but he gets the steps down. He laughs at the silliness of it all. Francis dips him quickly, shocking the human speechless. He smirks at him and kisses his forehead. Arthur flusters, pushing at his face to get him to go away. Francis drops him.

"Ow hey!" Arthur glares at him. Francis just shrugs. The human struggled, what was he supposed to do? He and Arthur spend the rest of the day listening to music and talking about trivial things. Favorite colors and favorite foods. When it gets closer to food time according to the human, Francis offers to make edibles for Arthur.

"You can cook?" Arthur deadpans on their way to the kitchen area. Francis scoffs at him and holds up a burnt pan.

"Can you?"Arthur puffs up and throws a spare pen at the demon. Francis catches it easily and laughs at him. He makes a simple tilapia with broccoli meal out of the ingredients Arthur has hiding in fridge. He leans on his elbow and watches the human eat. Arthur is in shambles at the delicious cooking. Francis is proud of his work. Whenever he wanted to surely sweep a young man or lady off their feet he always made them food. He's a little out of touch with the living world, but he's adapted over the years enough. His cooking has improved greatly.

After eating Arthur cleans up the dishes while Francis watches. He's quite liking this human. He has met others like Arthur, but he likes him all the same. He still has the urge to take him to bed, as it is in his nature, but he wants to do it willingly, without his powers. They spend the night staying up and talking just like the night before, though Francis convinces Arthur to go to bed earlier.

"Okay, you have so many books about spells, what is that all about?" Francis is sitting on the edge of the couch Arthur is cuddled up on. The human yawns and snuggles into his pillow.

"I've always been interested in magic. I find it fascinating," Francis hums in response. He's looked at the books on the shelves. Magic spells and demon summonings and legends and folklore all over the place. He's skimmed through a book when Arthur left the room. It's partially accurate. He scrunches up his face.

"How did you come about that summoning circle?" He moves his hard gaze to the paint still on the floor. Most demons are very secretive about the circles that can summon them entirely. To be able to get the King's circle is a feat.

"I drew it myself." Francis pauses, whipping his head around to stare at the human. Arthur opens his eyes and blinks at Francis.

"What?"

"You drew it?" Francis asks incredulously. "Where did you learn it?" Arthur sits up. Francis moves to his knees. He grabs Arthur's hands in his and pulls him close.

"I.. I just, put some symbols together, that made more sense than the books." Arthur stammers out. Francis doesn't move. This human has put together a legendary summon just by reading the right books. He doesn't move. Arthur pulls his hands back a little but Francis doesn't let them go. The King grips his hands tighter. Arthur flinches.

"You can never tell a soul what you know." Francis narrows his eyes at the human. Arthur gulps and nods his head quickly. Francis releases his hands. Having the power to summon the Demon King would be catastrophic on the human world. He's _lucky_ that Arthur is just an odd ended human who has a knack for the supernatural. Arthur wiggles back down into his blankets. Francis snaps his fingers and lights the paint on fire along with the carpet around it. Arthur jolts up and begins to protest, jumping off the couch. Francis grabs his wrist and yanks him back. Arthur lands with a huff in Francis's lap. The demon holds the human by the waist as the carpet blazes.

" _Francis_! Put _out_ that fire _right now_!" Arthur struggles in the arms around him but Francis refuses to let him go. He wiggles his finger at the fire, removing the smoke so the alarm doesn't go off. He rests his chin on Arthur's shoulder, a smile on his face.

"Relax," He coos in the human's ear. Arthur's struggling lessons slightly. The fire dulls to a small flame. The paint is gone off the carpet. Arthur is no longer wiggling, almost leaning into Francis's hold. The demon hums lowly in the soft glow his abnormal fire provides. It takes a while, but he finally notices Arthur asleep in his lap. He moves the human to the couch so he can sleep properly. Francis keeps the fire going for another hour. He makes sure that the paint is off the carpet, but the floor is not ruined. He can't have his circle getting into the wrong hands. Arthur may be upset his work is gone, but the protection of the innocent people and his own sanity is more important.

He stays and does his work when Arthur leaves for his job in the morning. There is another message from Ivan letting him know Hell is just as rotten as when he left it. Francis smirks. He writes he will be back soon enough. He is tearing his hair out at the memo of overflow. There are some army men making a ruckus and not moving to their rooms as designated. It'll be one of the first things he deals with when he is able to go back to Hell. He knows how difficult it is to be a greeter. Matthew had been his trainer. He has no idea how that boy can be that patient. People come in hysterical or angry or numb. Francis had some of the most difficulty with that job. He's going to have to ruffle some feathers.

When Arthur gets back, they talk a walk through the town. Francis hides his tail and horns. He manages to magic himself into what he used to look like as a human. Arthur points out his work building and the college he attends. He tells about his classes and what he does. Francis glares at the ground. Arthur may not have friends, but the boy barely tries either. He sighs. After being rejected friendship for so long, you stop trying. They stop at a small café on the walk back to Arthur's apartment. Francis has money out of nowhere to pay for it.

"Okay," Arthur takes a sip of his water then continues, "You're mainly incubus right?" Francis sips his own water. He nods to the human.

"So what can you.. Do?" Arthur folds his arms across the table. Francis smirks. He leans forward and Arthur does the same. Francis glances around the room till he spots a young man taking orders for an elderly couple across the room. He nods in that direction.

"See the boy over there?" Arthur leans back and casually peeks that way. The boy smiles at the couple and moves into the kitchen to tell the cooks the order. Arthur nods to Francis.

"Watch," Francis whispers. He leans back and lets out a small moan. He glances at the kitchen and narrows his eyes slightly. He can feel the boy's heat signature. He mentally pulls the boy his way. He looks to Arthur who is watching the kitchen doors. The boy appears suddenly, turning around the restaurant in confusion. When his eyes land on Francis he pauses and blushes wildly. Arthur stares wide eyed as the boy comes over, twisting his apron in his hands.

"Ex- excuse me? Have you been helped yet?" The boy tries to smile naturally but he can't seem to get himself together. It's clear that he's only talking to Francis. The demon leans on his elbow and smiles at the boy simply.

"Yes we have thank you though," Francis voice is cool and controlled. He's been playing people for years upon years. The boy nods and backs away from the table, a sheepish smile on his face. He runs back to the kitchen. Arthur lets out a short laugh and faces Francis, an amused smile on his face.

"You just looked at him," He exclaims. Francis shrugs like it's no big deal. Truthfully, if he wanted to, he could get everyone in the restaurant and five miles over fawning over him with a blink of his eyes.

"That's a simple trick. There's more that goes into seduction." He winks flirtatiously at the human. Arthur huffs and turns away from him. It's silent for a moment but Arthur breaks it.

"What else goes into your.. Uh. Job?" He fumbles for words. Francis laughs at him. He doesn't mind giving out Hell's secrets. No one would believe Arthur anyway.

"Getting people to talk to you is the easy part. You have to peak their interest naturally for the seduction to really work. You can force a human to follow you, but it takes a lot of effort. If a sex demon gets the human to like them without powers, the human becomes putty in their hands," Francis drops his tone to a sultry level. His eyes are locked on the human across from him. Arthur twitches in his seat but keeps eye contact with him. The entire restaurant is looking at them now. Francis put a little more conviction in his voice, attracting all the humans in the place. He stands suddenly and holds a hand out to Arthur. The human gulps but takes his hand. They walk out of the cafe.

It's silent on the way back to the apartment. Arthur asks a few more question about the life of an incubus. Francis can tell it makes the human uncomfortable with the idea of being forced into sex. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable with that? He reassures the human that the sex demons abilities do not work on those unwilling. Arthur relaxes a little at that.

"Have you ever used your powers on me?" Arthur asks once they are sitting on the couch together. Arthur is tapping away on his computer, looking over spreadsheets and making edits on papers scattered around him. Francis has a few papers in front of him that are mild. Mostly just reports on the ruffians at the welcome rooms that are still refusing to head inside Hell.

"Once, when you freaked out about summoning the King of Hell." Francis flips a paper over his shoulder. It puffs up in smoke and disappears. Arthur makes an 'oh' face as he remembers. Francis had cut off his other senses so the human would only focus on him and what he told him to do. Francis taps his pen to his lips. He glances at Arthur, staring at his computer with his brows furrowed. Francis smiles and leans over quickly to kiss the human's cheek. Arthur sputters immediately, leaning away from Francis and glaring at him. His glare is lessened by the splotch of red on his cheeks.

"I want you to like me naturally," Francis informs him, crossing one of his legs over the other. He turns back to his work. Arthur is still fuming. He rubs at his face harshly to remove Francis's kiss from his face.

"Don't play with me," he grumbles. Francis just smiles. He snuggles back into the human and marks down the punishment for a child molester. Eternity in the sexual displeasure rooms. Kids are some of the most innocent of humans, they don't deserve that pain. He's hit with an odd feeling. It's so weird to be snuggled up to a human, sweet and nice like, yet be determining the torture the scum of the earth will go through. Those two don't blend well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some anti-asshole vet parts. I mean no disrespect to those who have served. Only assholes.

It's the next morning when Arthur heads off to work, does Francis feel the power to head back to Hell. He smiles and snaps his fingers. A swirl of red surrounds him and he feels himself floating. He lands in his room. The red walls greet him. He snaps his fingers again and unleashes his wings. He spins in a circle, spreading the appendages wide. They've been hidden for a full day. He flaps them hard, making the room rumble with the wind. He chuckles to himself.

He waltzes down the hallway to the elevator up. He taps his foot impatiently. He needs to see the damage done to Hell himself. The workroom is bustling like usual when he enters. This time however, the workers are taking glances at him with worried looks. Francis sweeps into his office. Matthew and Gilbert are sitting in the chairs across from his desk waiting for him.

"So tell me," Francis says, striding into the room. Matthew jumps at the intrusion, then rolls his eyes. Gilbert snickers. The old King picks his feet up to rest against the desk. Matthew has white horns, pointing down to the ground, and thick white wings just passing his arm span. Gilbert has maroon horns curling up with points resting next to his eyes. His wings are large, smaller than Francis's by very little. Francis takes a seat, all ready for the damage result.

"A group of six war veterans are here, demanding to be sent to Heaven for defending their country." Matthew hands him a stack of files. His smile is strained. Francis reads the papers. The welcome rooms are in shambles. The war vets are younger and more wild, taking the cabinets and files and throwing them all over. The welcome demons can handle the mess, but it's a chore to have to pick up the papers over and over and over again. Francis doesn't care where the vets are from, he doesn't care who they fought. That's not what matters. They are unwilling to admit they've killed innocent people. They say the civilians were in disguise, disobeying orders to hold fire.

"Take me to them," Francis growls. His eyes are dark. Matthew can't hide his smirk. He's been dealing with these bozos for two days now, and finally, something will be done. He and Gilbert can hold off the veterans, but they can't get them to where they need to be.

"Ivan!" Francis calls out once they are out of his office. The tall demon is by his side in a flash of soot. Ivan is giggling. He hasn't stepped in, enjoying the misery of everyone in the welcome rooms. Francis wouldn't have wanted him to step in anyway. Ivan would take things too far. Matthew leads the way with Gilbert right beside him. Gilbert is smirking like crazy. There's a few distinguishable shouts from in front of them. A few seconds before they reach the main welcome room where Francis assumes the war vets are, another pair of footsteps falls in line with them. Francis glances to the side to see Kiku, a small sized demon whose wings are rather large, but frail. Kiku's short horns curl around his head and his tail flips back and forth. Kiku is the High Demon in charge of the solitary confinement branch of torture. His eyes are black, soulless, and completely unreadable.

Matthew opens the doors to the main welcome room with a sigh. Papers are scattered all over the floor. Six men, near their 30's are running about and pushing people, and demons, out of their way. Francis sighs, moving past Matthew. He snaps his fingers and a rush of air flows out shocking the bodies in the room. The lesser demon greeters freeze when they see it's Francis there. Their reaction may also be because he has three other demons with him who are the next most powerful.

"Welcome to Hell," Francis says, opening his arms wide. He approaches one of the veterans with a smile, just like Matthew taught him so many years ago. The vets close up together. They regard him coldly.

"I've heard you boys have been making a mess," He says giving them a twisted smile. He swoops over and picks up a few papers. He hands them off to a lesser demon. They scurry off to put them in their rightful place. One of the vets speak up.

"Who the fuck are you?" The boy spits. Francis makes a pouty face and tsks at him. He steps forward suddenly coming face to face with the boy.

"That's no way to speak to the one in charge now is it? Did your mother ever teach you manners?" He growls at the boy, gnashing his pointed teeth. He can feel the boy's fear, though he masks it with a brave face. Francis smiles again and steps back. He walks over to a desk and hoists himself up on it.

"Now," He starts, folding his hands and placing them on his lap. "What seems to be the problem gentlemen?" He uses the polite tone that has been beaten into his head. The vets scoff and a different one speaks up.

"We don't belong here." He says. The others nod.

"We're heroes, we deserve a hero's place in Heaven," Another one speaks up. The others shout out other affirmations. Francis nods mockingly, like he understands their plea. He flicks his wrist at the files Matthew had given him appear in his hands.

"Let's see here: killing innocent lives, torturing unarmed civilians, using their bodies as shields, and.." Francis glares at the words on the page. The vets start to protest.

"They were totally spies for-"

"They had guns hiding within their clothes-"

"We did it to protect ourselves-"

"We're heroes to our country-"

" _Wrong_ ," Francis cuts them off viciously. He smacks the files on the desk making a small echo in the room. The vets go silent. Francis's eyes are glowing dangerously as he regards the vets. He's sick of them messing with the flow he's worked hard to create within Hell. He approaches each of them, dishing out their punishment right then and there. He's read the notes on where they should go, it's only a matter of getting them there.

"You two, you used shock torture on the innocent lives, you will be sent to 50 years in physical torture." Francis nods to Ivan now. The large man is in front of the veterans in a puff of smoke. He giggles and grabs the men by the hair and drags them off. The other vets start to squabble at the screams of their friends. Francis continues.

"You made civilians crowd around you to save your own life. 50 years of solitary confinement." Francis steps back away from the man. Kiku puts his arms out with his hands open. The vet stares at him. Kiku looks to the man, and closes his hands sharply. The man's eyes go dark. He reaches out his hands and begins to scream. He can't see. Kiku waves the man on. Like a zombie, he follows.

"You two killed unarmed civilians for no reason other than you wanted to. You will be sent to the ghost rooms for 60 years to hear the voices of those you have killed." A loud cackle is heard and Gilbert lunges forward. He flaps his wings and grabs the collars of the two vets. He flies them off to the ghost rooms. Francis turns coldly to the last vet. He closes in on him.

"You took women for your own pleasure despite their cries to stop, then you did the same to their children. _You sick fuck_." Francis shoots out his hand to grab the man by the throat. He lifts him off the ground.

"Enternity in sexual displease," He snarls out. There's a cracking of knuckles and a dark chuckle. A large demon appears, rivaled only by Ivan in size. His wings are just a little less thick than Ivan's however. He steps forward and takes the vet by the throat as well. Francis releases them to Sadiq. The lumbering man throws the vet over his shoulder and tramples off with sharp laugh. Francis shakes his head to remove the violent glow in his eyes. Matthew pats his shoulder in a comforting way, as well as to tell him to get off the desk. Francis complies and leaves the welcome rooms just as Gilbert comes cackling back in.

Francis closes himself in his room. He takes a deep breath. His body feels heavy, like something is calling to him. He lets the red mist swirl around him and take him back to Arthur's apartment. He appears on the couch just as the human is opening the door to the room. Francis smiles at him. Arthur smiles too, but his expression slips. He drops his things and takes a cautious seat next to the demon.

"Are you alright?" Arthur places a hand to Francis's forehead. The demon laughs at the concern. He doesn't get sick anymore. He sneaks his arms around the human to pull him close. Arthur 'eeps' at being suddenly tugged closer to the demon. Francis smirks.

"Just some misunderstanding new resident trouble is all," He tells his human. Arthur grumbles at being too close to the demon, but cuddles into his chest anyway. Francis holds him and tells him what happened since he's been gone. Arthur apologizes a few times for taking him away from his duties but Frances assures him it's no big deal. This situation is handled.

"You were right though," Arthur says rolling off the couch. He stands to go to his dropped briefcase. Francis 'hmms' in question. Arthur shrugs.

"I guess some people do deserve to go to hell," He swivels on his heel and heads into the kitchen area. Francis smiles after him. Arthur isn't a pushover, far from it. He tells Francis when he's being annoying, something most demons are afraid to do. Francis enjoys the easiness of seeing Arthur around. He's sure Arthur likes having someone to come home to as well. This is how they fall into an easy schedule.

Every morning Francis sees Arthur off to work with a wicked smirk while the human just scoffs at him. As soon as he's gone, the demon returns to Hell to take care of his business. He can do his work at the apartment but doing paperwork in his office just feels more natural. Plus, his edits and orders can be fulfilled right away. He can feel Arthur heading back to his home at the end of the human day being contracted to him. He takes his leave of his office and barricades himself in his room. He lets the mist consume him and take him away.

He makes food for Arthur when it gets close to the human's feeding time. They stay up and talk about random things. Francis tries to recall his childhood for Arthur's curiosity, though he can't get details right since it's been around 500 years since he was human. He does tell of his time in Heaven some more. Arthur takes it all in with an excited expression. Francis gets him to open up more about his life as well, though it is not as extensive as the demon's. At night Francis waits for Arthur to fall asleep before reading the human's books and maybe looking over some spare papers from work.

Francis can't entirely believe how much he really likes spending time with Arthur. The spitfire human doesn't take his crap and pushes him away when he does something ridiculous. They act like they have been friends for years with the way they talk to each other. Francis enjoys the human's simple air, not to say Arthur is dumb, because he's not. Arthur is very intellectual, telling Francis about all the myths and magic things he's learned about. Francis can't help but smile at the way Arthur's eyes sparkle with life as he talks.

It's the middle of his month long stay now. Arthur is used to the demon in his house and Francis is used to the human. He's just slightly annoyed that he's waiting for Arthur to come to him with an advance. He likes the human, that is obvious to him. What is not obvious to him is why now, of all times, does he have feelings for someone? It's just a simple crush, he would know, he's guided children through the same feelings. It still bugs him. Arthur is nothing like the kind of person Francis thought he would harbor feelings for. Yet, he can see exactly why someone like Arthur would catch his attention. He doesn't give in and is not afraid to tell Francis what he's feeling. Arthur is a fresh of breath air in his own right.

"Welcome home~" Francis coos when the human appears in the doorway. Arthur huffs with a smile. He drops his briefcase like he's done everyday before and saddles up next to the demon. He pulls his legs up to hug them to his chest.

"How was your day today?" Arthur asks, making simple conversation they are both used to. Francis leans back in the couch and the simpleness of it all. He tells about how they are adding new rooms to every branch of torture with the way humans are moving downhill. Arthur scowls at the floor but doesn't comment on it. After some prodding, the human tells about his day at work. Some customers came in with complaints of a product they put out. He had to call the manufacturer and get a recall on the items as well as settle the anger of the customers. Arthur runs his hands through his hair. Francis gets an idea.

He pushes Arthur forward some so he's sitting on the edge of the couch. The human questions his actions, but shuts his mouth when Francis moves his hands skillfully over the knots in Arthur's shoulders. Francis reminds himself not to use any powers to remove tension. It would ruin all his natural progress. Arthur lets out tiny moans as the demon's hands work his back. It relaxes him greatly. It's been so long since he's had contact like this. When Francis can't feel any more knots he stops. Arthur immediately flops against his shoulder.

"Thank you," The human mumbles out. Francis chuckles and kisses his forehead. Arthur scowls but doesn't say anything. They sit together in silence. Francis pulls Arthur up when the human's stomach growls demanding food. He hums aloud in the kitchen as he makes food. Just like every night before, Arthur tells him how wonderful the cooking is.

"I'm going to miss this," He whispers at his half empty plate. Francis catches the sad tone though. He leans in front of Arthur. They lock eyes.

"A month is barely any time at all," Francis smiles at him. Arthur sighs and muster up a smile. After the food is gone, Arthur washes the dishes. He jogs back to his room ahead of Francis. When the demon gets there, Arthur is tapping away at his computer. A song starts to play and Francis smirks. He takes Arthur's hands immediately. He twirls the human around the room like he's done so before. Arthur smiles and laughs and Francis gets lost in his eyes again.

Arthur yawns. He stretches his arms up and flops into the couch. Even after helping the human set up the rest of his house and unpack boxes, Arthur still prefers his couch to sleep on. Francis sits on the edge and runs a hand through the soft locks. A bitter part of him hopes that the softness doesn't change once Arthur goes to Hell. The same bitter part nags at his brain about taking this human to Hell. Arthur is nice, a very decent business man, and overall doesn't deserve the pain of Hell. Francis can't stop the stream of resentment from coursing through him. He wants Arthur to be happy, but he doesn't want him to leave him either.

Francis will have to leave in the next week or two. He can't stick around because he wants to. If he stays any longer than what he depicted in the beginning, the demons will question him and the angels might come into play. He doesn't want any of the featherheads near Arthur. He bites his tongue. Arthur will most likely be a soul debated over. If he's good enough, his soul will outweigh the deal, and he can break his contract to go to Heaven. Francis knows he could never ask Arthur to fall for him. He could never ask Arthur to love him enough.

He remembers talking to Gilbert about this situation as well, long before he met Arthur. Gilbert broke many things when he told of the guilt and the pain he felt from taking Matthew away from the light of Heaven. Matthew didn't belong in the underground of Hell. Gilbert hated himself for doing that to Matthew, no matter how many times the young Fallen Angel told him it was worth all the pain. Francis knows he wouldn't be able to handle that. Arthur won't even like him enough. He would let the human go.

"Francis?" He jumps a little at the soft call of his name. He blinks down at Arthur. The human looks unsure, confused. Arthur slowly reaches a hand up to hold the one Francis has in his hair. Francis doesn't move. Now he's confused.

"Will you.." Arthur bites his lip and doesn't complete his request. He grumbles and wiggles around to turn his back to Francis.

"Nevermind." Francis raises an eyebrow at him. A slow smile slips onto his face. He twists in his seat to lay down next to the human. Arthur's breathing hitches when Francis snuggles up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Francis nuzzles his head into Arthur's soft hair.

"Git," Is all he receives in response. Arthur is more relaxed now, comfortable in the hold around him. Francis lays next to him the whole night, awake and alert. He listens to Arthur's breathing as he sleep. He doesn't want to let the human go and the thought annoys him. Mostly because he knows he's going to have to. He tugs Arthur closer. The human lets out a soft moan at being jostled. Francis clenches his jaw. He feels stupid. This is probably how Gilbert felt when he met Matthew. How could he like someone so easily? How could he do that? Where in the world did this person come from to make him lose his mind?

After all the years of flirting in his human life, and tempting people as an incubus, this is where he finds someone he wants to spend time with. Some lonely depressed hard working _human_ has managed to get in his head. Francis nuzzles Arthur. It's going to be Hell when he has to leave.

The next few days pass in a blur, and Francis can feel the contract coming to an end like a rope hanging by a thread. Ready to snap. He doesn't return to Hell that day. He can do paperwork later. Arthur has left for work already. Seemingly unaware that he won't see Francis again. This human knows more about him than most ever have. Arthur is open with him and carefree and nice. Francis rakes a hand through his hair, causing his scalp to bleed. He can't be possessive. Not now. He will not force anything.

He spent the rest of the nights holding Arthur while he slept. Some nights he would play with the human's hair, other times rubs small circles on his back. If he felt particularly risky, he would kiss Arthur's forehead as he fell asleep. He feels so stupid. Arthur trusts him. It kills him.

He makes a special dinner that night, extensive and exquisite. Something that reminds him of Arthur. It's the same meal he made the first night he cooked, just better prepared. He wonders if he should tell Arthur how he feels, or if he should just let it slide and forget about it. He's leaning towards the latter. He can't subject this human to any pain. He will just slip away at midnight.

"Ugh what a day," Arthur grumbles as he slouches against the door. Francis smirks at him from his seat on the counter. The human removes his tie and throws his briefcase down. He sniffs the air.

"Food smells great," Arthur muses, taking a seat at the table. Francis hums in thanks. He pokes at the food, making sure it's cooking right. Arthur goes off about his day, telling how his superior called him and chewed him out about a shipment that came in wrong. Arthur had spent the whole day trying to fix the issue and only managed to get it resolved just at the time he usually goes home.

"Oh poor you," Francis teases, smirking over his shoulder at the human. Arthur rolls his eyes and glares. Francis laughs and dances his way over to him. He kisses Arthur's temple. The human pushes him off. Francis serves dinner, this time, he's eating as well. Food sticks out in his mind, and he wants to remember Arthur, even if it's worthless and already effortless.

"Francis?" The demon looks up from his book. Arthur was in the kitchen washing the dishes from dinner, and Francis stole away to calm himself and his spiking emotions. Arthur leans against the doorway now, wringing his hands together. Francis puts the book down.

"When are you supposed to be.. Leaving.. Me?" Arthur stammers out. Francis clenches his jaw and does his best to keep his face neutral.

"Midnight." He says simply. Arthur's breathing catches. He glances to the floor, stilling playing with his fingers. Francis stands to be in front of him.

"Do you have to go?" Francis knows that if he had a heartbeat it would be pounding. He reaches up a hand to lift Arthur's head. He gazes down at those hopeful green eyes.

"I can't stay," he whispers. Arthur tries hard to swallow his hurt. Francis pulls him tight in a hug. Arthur starts to cry. After a straight month of having a roommate and a friend to come home to, after so long of being alone, it's got to be painful to be on your own once more. Francis stays strong. Arthur is just upset to lose his friend. Normally he might enjoy someone's misery, but he caused this to an innocent soul. He bites his tongue.

"I'll see you again though right?" Francis manages to keep his expression neutral when Arthur pulls back to look at him. It doesn't work. He smiles sadly and shakes his head. He can't stay in Arthur's life. Not like this. It will call too much attention to the human. Arthur scowls and rubs at his face to remove his tears.

"But you're the King! Can't you.. Bend rules or something?" Arthur pushes him back and rubs more furiously at his face. He glowers at Francis. The demon holds up his hands in surrender. If he wanted to stay with Arthur longer, he would have to grant permission to almost every upper level demon to enter earth as they please. Only few higher up demons can go to earth for odd ended missions and training exercises. If he did stay with Arthur, without granting access to the living world, the demons would be in uprising. By his silence, Arthur gets his answer.

"So you're just going to leave me?" Arthur sputters out. He's glaring hard. Francis sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, fingering at the scabs he made.

"Arthur-"

"Don't you 'Arthur' me! Do you know how much this sucks?" Francis flashes forward to stand nose to nose with the human. Arthur gasps harshly.

"I went through a hundred years of torture. Trust me. I know how much this sucks." He whispers darkly. This is one of his fears come to life. Having to leave the one he likes. Arthur gulps. Francis steps back once he recognizes the fear in the human's eyes. He doesn't want to hurt Arthur.

"Do you care?" Arthur says softly. Francis pauses. Arthur's green eyes are looking at him with so much hurt. This is the moment he didn't want to happen. He cares. He cares a lot more than a demon should. He wants to pull Arthur close and take him for all he has. But he can't. He wants Arthur to live a happy full life without daydreaming about a demon. He can't have Arthur thinking of him when he goes on. He doesn't want Arthur to chose him over Heaven. He knows how happy it would make him, but the pain is not something he wants for Arthur.

"No."

"Liar." Arthur takes his turn to step forward. He pushes at Francis's shoulders making the demon stumble back. Francis bites his tongue. He doesn't want to hurt the human. Arthur pushes at his shoulders again.

"All those lingering touches and those kind looks? All for nothing? Liar!" Arthur pounds at his chest. Francis takes a step back and braces himself against the hits. It's true. He's lying. Arthur wants to believe he cares. He can't though. He can't. Arthur stops hitting him, gripping at Francis's shirt. He rests his head against the demon's chest. He gasps out, choking back tears he doesn't want to cry. Francis doesn't hold him. He turns his face towards the ceiling, holding back his hurt.

"Please don't tell me I mean nothing to you." Arthur pleads. Francis closes his eyes tight. He can't hurt Arthur. He groans aloud and wraps his arms tight around the human. He buries his head into Arthur's neck. Arthur holds him back. They stand like that. Francis doesn't want to lie. He wants Arthur all for his own, but he can't have him.

"I can't Arthur. Please understand that I _can't_." Arthur hisses when Francis digs his nails too tight into his skin. Francis pulls away sharply. He glares at the ground. Arthur rubs at his arms. He moves back to stand right in front of Francis. He puts their foreheads together. Neither of them talk. Words are useless now. It will get them nowhere. Francis gulps. He can feel it now. The threads of the contract snapping one by one. He glances at the human clock in the corner of the room. So close. Arthur pulls back to look up at him. Once more, Francis is caught off guard by his green eyes. Arthur grits his teeth and pushes forward. The kiss only lasts a second.

Francis is dragged back. Slipping through the earth just like he had nearly 300 years ago when he fell from Heaven. He thinks it's strange, how he feels just like that once again. He lands with a thud on his bed in the deepest level of Hell. He blinks at the ground above him, a deep concave in his chest. He skips the rest of his work that day. He can handle it tomorrow. He won't be able to focus with the human on his mind. He unfurls his wings underneath him. They curl around him like a bat. He digs his palms into his eyes. For the first time in years, Francis screams. It shakes the room and quiets all around him. Just one yell, and he feels better. It's all he needs.

He can't see Arthur in his mind. The contract is officially severed. He feels so stupid and so weak. How could he let himself lose his mind over a human that he only knew for a month? He flaps off the bed and hits the wall a few times. He changes his mind and heads to work. Anything to distract him from those stupid green eyes. He stomps into the workroom. The lesser demons avoid him. His anger and foul mood is obvious. He drops into his desk chair. He almost pities the people whose files he is looking over.

"You're fucking stupid ain't ya?" Francis tenses up at the voice. Gilbert is standing in his doorway with his arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on his face. Francis glares at him. He is not in the mood for Gilbert's teasing remarks and chaotic vibe. That doesn't stop the demon from swaggering into the office more and making himself comfortable in the chair across from Francis. He kicks his legs up to place his feet on the desk.

"Tell me all about it~" Gilbert coos. His smirk only grows when Francis grits his teeth. He tries to return his focus to his paperwork. This however, is a bad idea. Gilbert's smirk falls. He doesn't like being ignored. He flaps his wings once to stand on the desk and glare down at Francis, his red eyes glowing dangerously.

"Do not make me ask again," He commands. Francis glares up at him. They've been in this position before. Francis challenged Gilbert much like this. It's tense between them now. Francis has ripped his papers in two. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hears Gilbert drop from the desk and retake his seat. The last thing Francis needs right now is to use up all his strength.

"Yes, I am stupid." Francis admits. He runs a hand through his hair as he glances at Gilbert. The old King's smirk is back on his face. Francis resigns to his fate. He leans back in his chair and pulls at his hair.

"That shouldn't have happened," He mumbles. Gilbert lets out a bark of laughter.

"Well no shit!" Gilbert pushes off the ground, kicking his legs up in enjoyment. Francis groans.

"You think I planned Mattie? Fuck no," Gilbert scoffs, putting his feet back on the ground. The old King stands and paces around the room. Francis groans again, dropping his head to bang it on the desk. Gilbert snickers at him.

"I don't want him to ruin his life for me," Francis says quietly. Gilbert's steps stop. This is a feeling the old King knows well. He let out a yell exactly the same as the one Francis did when he found out Matthew dropped. He didn't want it. As much as he would have liked Matthew with him, he didn't want the boy to give up his life in Heaven. Not for the pain and destruction of Hell. It's Gilbert's biggest regret. No matter how many times Matthew tells him he's happy.

"Well hopefully he's not as stupid as you," Gilbert snorts and breezes out of the office. Francis can only hope Arthur is smarter. He seals up the papers he ripped in half and continues on with his otherworldly life. He tries hard to forget those eyes, and that laugh, and those hands pushing his face away.

* * *

It's ten years later when Francis makes a run to the surface. One of the succubus is going on a test run and he's supervising, seeing the one she's trying to seduce is a very famous politician. She's going to cause a scandal. It's going to be fun. Francis takes a detour though when he has a moment. He slips through the shadows to the small town Arthur lives in. He's chilling a tree when he spots his human. Arthur is more grown up now. He fits into his suits nicely, a scowl on his face as he looks at his watch. Francis blends into the shade of the leaves when the human passes underneath him. He knows it's stupid to keep tabs on his once upon a time summoner, but he wants to see him. He follows Arthur for as long as he can. He sees him working his job, a higher position than before, and politely handling customers and other business purposes.

Just before he heads back to his actual job, Francis finds Arthur's apartment. It's barely different. Same blank walls and same blanket on the couch. Francis twirls his wrist, a black rose appears in his hand with a deep red ribbon tied around the horribly thorny stem. He places the rose on the couch and vanishes just as the door opens. He spends the rest of the weekend with the succubus, distracting himself in her body and her shenanigans. The politician is successfully seduced, and the scandals are underway. They disappear back into the underground.

He continues on with his duties. He makes new plans and changes the way the work room is run. Gilbert still makes fun of him. They get into one fight. It hadn't been a challenge since Gilbert didn't explicitly say so when he lunged at Francis, but the old King lost anyway. He focuses on the pain of those who deserve it. He dabbles in his old jobs, making sure they are all running they way they should. He spends some time training new recruits as well. He listens to screams of agony. He spends a month in solitary confinement for his own sanity.

He travels to the living world once again ten years after he left the rose for Arthur. He hated himself for doing it. He shouldn't be giving the human hope, but he wanted to let Arthur know that he did think of him. As wrong as it is. He leads a few boys down the path of stripping with temptations of women and money. He leaves them in capable hands after convincing them to go through a show together. They really would make a great team. After they collect their earnings, Francis slips away.

He hides in a tree just like last time. He spots Arthur sitting at an outdoor café by himself. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. Francis wants to hold him. He watches as Arthur orders tea and sips it slowly. Francis holds down his urge to go and talk to him or worse, make Arthur look his way. He leans up against the tree and just watches. When a man approaches Arthur, Francis's blood boils. He could recognize the angelic face of Alfred anywhere. He glares down as the two have a simple lunch together.

How long has Alfred been talking to Arthur? How long as this pretty boy bastard been speaking with his human? He knows it's Alfred, no human has eyes that sky blue or makes people turn their heads and smile without some otherworldly ability. He makes the glass in Alfred's hand break. He vanishes before the angel can spot him. Back in the underground, Francis picks a fight with Gilbert on purpose to get the shit beat out of him. He spends half a year being tortured by Ivan. He needs to get his head in the right spot, and the vicious High Demon of Torture is all too happy to help.

Francis forgets Arthur as best he can. Every time he thinks of those green eyes he calls a sex demon in training to relieve him of his tension. If he ever gets the urge to run his fingers through that soft hair, he puts himself in solitary confinement. He doesn't want to keep his thoughts on Arthur. The more he does, the more he's going to want Arthur with him. The man deserves to go to Heaven with the life he's living. Francis has no right to take that life for his own selfish reasons.

It's been twenty years since he last saw Arthur.

* * *

There's a knock on his office door. He sighs and looks up as Matthew comes in. The demon is grimacing. That alone tells him it's not good news. He groans.

"The angels wish to speak with you," Matthew's tone is clipped. Francis gives a strained smile. He stands from his desk and walks to the elevator at the end of the office. The other demons stop to watch as he enters the contraption that will lead him to the Gates of Heaven. Hell's elevator only goes so far up. Francis can take this one just barely to the surface, then another one all the way to the top. He's joined in the elevator by Lukas. Hell's best lawyer is a cold demon with eyes like ice. His wings are not as big, barely the same size as his arm span, but strong. Some of the toughest wings in the underground. His horns break off into four prongs atop his head.

"What are we dealing with today?" Francis grumbles dragging his hand across his face. Lukas pulls papers out of nowhere. He thumbs through them absent mindedly.

"Simple soul debate. Though, this one may be taken from us," Lukas's tone never changes, it's neutral and unwavering. Francis never saw Lukas in action as a human, but he has seen the lawyer work his way up the ladder to get his position, and keep more souls in Hell until their time is up. They step off the underground elevator and into the upper one. Clouds no longer hold their bodies being too full of sin, but the angels made due. They would rather have two or three demons up in Heaven over two or three angels in Hell. The demons don't care. Angels can't hurt them that badly.

The trip up to Heaven is longer than Francis would have liked. He's dealt with agonizingly long waits before but that doesn't mean he likes to. The gates open with a soft ding. He and Lukas take careful steps up to the stone room where the angels and the soul to be debated are waiting. He comes to this room maybe once every 30 or so years. It's a small stone room with light spewing in from every corner. He's not excited to see Alfred again. He shakes his head violently to remove the memory of the last time he saw the sunspot. He doesn't need those negative thoughts now. He puts on a collected smile and pushes open the stone door.

He and Lukas do not speak as they take their seats at the end of the room. There are two angels seated across from them. Francis finds it easier to smile at the foul look Alfred is giving him. Since his 'promotion' Alfred's wings have grown in size, rivaling Francis. The white fluffy feathers have a gold tint now. The angel next to him is one Francis has seen often. Natalia, a very strong angel that deals with rogue demons who have overstepped their boundaries in the living world. Her long white hair flows slightly in the breeze. Her wings are long as well, though her tips are black.

"Morning~" Francis drawls out. He snickers at the discomfort from Alfred. Natalia just looks away, seemingly bored with the whole ordeal already. They don't have to sit long. A door opens from the side of the room. Alfred and Natalia both stand in respect to the passed person. An angel with black hair enters the room, his wing base is solid gold. Francis raises an eyebrow. If they brought in the soul see-er into the room, this is going to be a very controversial soul. Francis keeps smiling as Arthur enters the room soon after.

The poor human is placed at the table. He's fidgeting with his fingers, old age suits him well. He's a bit wrinkled around the mouth, proof of all the frowning he has done. France's notes his age. Arthur couldn't have been more than 70 at his death. He will admit to being curious to how the human died. He smiles at the human, his pointed teeth showing. Arthur rubs his eyes to get used to the brightness of the room. He gasps when he sees Alfred. Francis will also admit to being annoyed that Arthur hadn't seen him first.

"You!" Arthur exclaims. He blinks wide eyed at the High Archangel. Alfred smiles softly at him. Francis hasn't taken his eyes off the human. His voice is just a hint deeper now. His eyes however, are no less green and captivating.

"Hello again Arthur," Alfred greets the human. Francis grits his teeth a little. He doesn't like the sweet tone in the angel's voice.

"You.. You're an angel!" Arthur covers his mouth with his hand. Alfred smiles sheepishly at him. There's a brief explanation of who he is to the human. Francis clenches his fist, he doesn't like to be ignored.

"We are here to debate your soul. It seems you have made a deal with a demon. We are hear to win you over." Natalia interjects his purpose for being in the room. Arthur leans forward in rapt attention to her words. Francis thinks just for a second that Arthur hasn't changed. The human furrows his brows in thought, further proving Francis right.

"If.. You're here to debate my soul.. Then that means.." Arthur sits up straighter. He spins in his seat to finally focus his eyes on Francis. The King of Hell has his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. He smirks wildly at the shock in Arthur's face.

"Francis," The human breathes out. Francis snickers. The corners of Arthur's mouth twitch up into a smile.

"Let's get down to business yes?" Lukas interrupts the reunion. Francis doesn't remove his smile from Arthur though. Neither does the human from him. Papers are placed on the table to look over.

"Let's start with who he made a deal with." Natalia's clipped tone echos in the room. Arthur jumps at her words. Francis fights off the urge to laugh again. Lukas raises his eyebrows when he catches the name of the demon who Arthur contracted.

"Interesting," He mutters out. It's one of the few times Francis has heard a difference in Lukas's tone. He dare say the lawyer is amused. Arthur fidgets in his seat. Alfred glares at Francis from across the table.

"How did this happen? You don't have a summoning circle." Alfred hisses at him. Francis shrugs like he didn't drop from Heaven. He has always had one, it just hadn't been used until a very adventurous magic enthusiast discovered it.

"I kind of.. Made it.." Arthur admits, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers. Francis wonders if it's still as soft. Alfred bristles.

"You made a deal with the King of Hell.. on _accident_?" Yao, the soul see-er exclaims in disbelief. Arthur shrinks in on himself.

"Well.. Sort of. Yes?" Arthur glances up to the angels. When their faces stay stuck in shock, Arthur turns to Francis. The King of Hell has to take his eyes off the human. He knows his expression is giving away too much feeling, but he doesn't care. Arthur gives him a shy smile.

"Sort of?" Alfred asks. He's losing his patient tone. Though Lukas doesn't show much emotions, both demons feel a rush of enjoyment at the High Archangel's anger.

"Well, he said that, summoning him was harder on me, so that paid for his existence. I however, made a separate for sure deal with him." Francis raises an eyebrow at the professional voice Arthur has gained over his years of work. When the human folds his hands on the table, Francis can't help but notice the lack of ring on his finger. Alfred rubs at his temples. Lukas cracks a smile.

"So he belongs to us." The lawyer purrs out. The angels freeze up. Arthur looks between them all.

"Not entirely," Natalia says. For the first time, Francis tears his eyes away from Arthur to glare at Natalia. The angel doesn't flinch under his gaze.

"His soul is pure still," She informs them. Francis grits his teeth. He goes back to staring at Arthur. The human stares right back. Natalia continues on with all the good deeds Arthur has done. The business man has worked his way up the ranks with honesty and good work. He has donated majority of his earning to orphanages and homeless shelters because he wanted to. His soul is ripe with purity. Francis is prepared to let him go.

"That doesn't change the fact he still made a deal with a demon. He willingly gave up his soul in return for a wish that has already been fulfilled." Lukas points out, tapping a paper in front of him harshly. Arthur turns away from Francis now. He gazes sadly at the table. Francis bites his tongue. While he wants Arthur to be with him, he knows he will have a happier life in Heaven.

"While the wish may have been fulfilled, was it sealed?" Natalia's voice makes Francis go cold. His seal is a kiss. Arthur refused. Alfred smiles condescendingly at him.

"The seal was a kiss correct? With your incubus nature?" Lukas asks aloud. Francis can hear his tone. He knows he's going to lose. Francis doesn't care.

"I did kiss him." Arthur says, snapping his head up to Natalia. She raises an eyebrow at his outburst. Yao clears his throat awkwardly. He beckons Arthur to him. The human stands cautiously.

"What I'm about to do is look back into your life to the exact moment the seal happened. I need you to think of that moment as clear as you can." Arthur nods to his instructions. Yao raises his hands to the sides of Arthur's head. It's silent. It's a minute of tension. Yao drops his hands and Arthur stumbles back. Francis is out of his seat with a hefty snap of his wings. The angels jolt, but Francis catches Arthur before he falls to the ground. The human catches his breath. Francis helps him stand again. Arthur clings to his shoulders like a lifeline.

"The end date of the contract was when exactly?" Yao asks. The soul see-er has a finger to his mouth in thought. Arthur glances at him but refuses to let go of Francis when Alfred holds out a hand to him.

"30 days after the full 2, I believe." Arthur glances down at the outstretched hand of the angel. Francis smirks and holds the human closer at the glare Alfred is giving him.

"Contract was sealed one second after the date set. It is not binding." Yao says, a slight proud tone in his voice. Lukas stands and moves to pick up his papers. Alfred smirks at him in victory. Francis only has eyes for Arthur. He takes the human's face in his hands. Before his eyes, Arthur grows younger, the age he wishes to be seen, the same age he was when he summoned Francis.

"Please Arthur please stay in Heaven, please I'm begging you." Francis clenches his teeth. Arthur had been smiling when he started talking, thinking that Francis would ask him to stay with him anyway. His smile drops when he processes Francis's request. The human begins to shake his head.

"You must stay here Arthur please you do not belong in Hell." Francis closes his eyes tight, not caring that his voice is cracking, not caring how desperate he really is. The angels are frozen at the sight of the King breaking down. Lukas has left him already.

"You.. You don't mean that." Arthur whispers to him. Francis shakes his head now. He needs to convince Arthur Heaven is for him. He doesn't wish the pain of Hell on him.

"I don't want you there. I don't want you." The words feel like barbed wire in his throat. He does want Arthur with him, but in Hell? No. He ignores the pain in Arthur's face. His grip on the human betraying his words. Arthur shakes his head.

"No. No you came back for me. I found your rose. You came back." Arthur pulls at him, trying to bring him close. Francis takes a deep breath and pushes the human back into the angels. He schools his voice into the dark tone learned from being King.

"No. I lied. I played you like all the others. I don't want you." Arthur screams. Francis falls. This is the second time he's dropped from Heaven. For a moment he thinks this time is more painful. The pain in Arthur's voice and the hurt on his face. When he gets back to Hell. He puts himself in another half year of physical torture by Ivan. It helps him forget. Gilbert is the most understanding, but he's too mean spirited to give full consolation. Matthew does it for him. Francis throws himself into work.

He refuses to sleep for that gives him time to think. He works in every section of Hell. He tortures and perfects his techniques with Ivan's guidance. He relearns how to work solitary confinement with Kiku. He does try not to work in the sexual displeasure rooms. He mostly enjoys the screams of the prisoners that hurt those around them. It makes him smile. He trains the sex demons mostly. He refuses to go to the human world though. He has his reasons. He greets a few hundred people to Hell. Helps the welcomers when someone gets a little too wild. He finds it funny when people say they don't belong there. If Heaven wanted them, they'd be there. Probably.

It's been 46 years since he's seen Arthur. He will not deny thinking about the human, now angel. He no longer punishes himself roughly for his thoughts. If he finds himself thinking too much he simply picks a sex demon to occupy his mind. It works long enough to keep him remotely sane. As sane as one can be when they are in charge of Hell. He's rifling through some documents when a yell sounds out. It's a scream, getting closer and closer. A boom sounds out and wind rushes through the office space throwing papers everywhere. He stands from his desk to head towards the door, ready to fight whatever foe that has entered his domain. A few demons are flying his way.

" _Fallen_!" One demon yells. She rushes forward and skids to a stop, losing her balance in her effort and rolling on the ground. She jumps to her feet in front of Francis. He gives her a puzzled look.

"Fallen," she breathes out. "An angel has fallen." Francis glares in the direction of the doors. A group of demons burst through, Matthew in the lead. They are carrying a body in their hands. Gilbert is at his side in seconds. Francis is the last of the fallen to appear, and when he did, he took Gilbert's position. They are both a little wary. Matthew stops in front of him. He gives a pained smile and Francis can feel his breathing catch. Matthew steps back and the demons drop the angel down at his feet. Their wings are small, just like Matthew's. They are now featherless and black. The angel coughs and tries to sit up onto their knees. Francis grits his teeth. The angel's hair is now a dark red in color. The angel pushes up with a grunt. Francis can't breathe. Arthur looks up to him, with the same green eyes as always.

"OUT," Gilbert barks suddenly. He's snarling and twisting in circles. The lesser demons are frightened, scattering immediately at the violence of their old King. Matthew is the only one who stays. Francis drops to his knees in front of Arthur. Tears well up in his eyes. He's so conflicted. He has been dying to see his once upon a time summoner. To see him, broken and fallen in the deepest parts of Hell however, breaks him in two. So this is what Gilbert felt when Matthew came to him. Arthur flops back to the ground. Francis lunges forward. He cradles Arthur's head in his lap. He runs his fingers through the angel's hair. It's still just as soft. He closes his eyes tight.

"He has to go through punishment just like the rest of us," Gilbert's voice is cold. Francis nods. He knows. He looks up to Matthew.

"How long were you in torture for?" Gilbert tenses at the question. He wraps his arms around Matthew's waist and buries his head into his neck. Matthew takes a deep breath.

"I believe I was in the ghost rooms for 10 years, every other major torture for a year, training on and off for the next few years after that." Gilbert holds him tighter. Francis understand why. To put the one he had fallen in love with through that kind of pain is torture on it's own.

"He will be put through the same then." Francis nods, trying to get his head wrapped around the fact Arthur is really in his arms once more. He removes himself from the floor. The demon in charge of ghost rooms, Feliks, comes forward when called. He takes the angel, now demon, in his arms and to his own special ghost room. Francis decides he can't handle anymore work today. He hides himself in his room and screams into his pillows. The last thing he wants is to put Arthur through this pain. There's no turning back now. You can't crawl your way back into Heaven.

* * *

He doesn't see Arthur. He does wander the endless hallways of Hell. He sits in on a few torture sessions and listens to the screams of the residents. If he's being honest, he is searching for Arthur's room. He knows he won't find it. He doesn't want to either. Not really. If he finds the room where Arthur's screams come from, he's going to want to stop the torture. That can't happen though. He's playing favorites enough by lessening the sentence. Some of the lower demons are miffed by his actions, just as they were when Gilbert punished Matthew. How come the angel gets off easy? They thoroughly enjoyed the pain Francis experienced. He drags his nails across the wall.

He holds off from finding Arthur. Mostly because he can't. He explores the training grounds. Arthur should be in his first year of training now. He wonders where his little summoner went. When he does spot Arthur in the welcome room training grounds, he hides in the ceiling to watch. Arthur still looks as young as he chose to be when he went to Heaven. His dirty blonde hair is now blood red with short black horns sticking out, more pointed than others. Francis can see him smiling, some of his teeth are pointed. His wings are the same as Matthew's, on the smaller side, but thick. His eyes still the alarming green. Francis can't help but feel relieved that his eye color hasn't changed.

He scowls as he watches. Arthur is shrinking in on himself. He can do the job instructed to him, but he grimaces as he does. He's too soft. Francis pulls at his lip. Having Arthur work with humans might be too much. He is a good person after all. Working as a floating manager though might work. Arthur is good at the job he's tasked, but he wants to let the humans off easy. They can't have that. The people sent here, are in here for a reason. Francis steals away and asks Matthew how Arthur is handling himself.

"Oh very well I think, he seemed to know me," Matthew smirks at him. Francis rolls his eyes.

"I may have mentioned you while I was contracted to him." He informs. He hops off the ground and floats on his stomach. Matthew sighs and puts files back into the cabinet.

"He does not like punishing people, a menial task job will do him nicely though," Francis nods. He knows that much as well. He slips away in the shadows back to his office. Sooner or later, Arthur will be sent to the workspace for a year to see how he handles mindless ends of paperwork. Being a businessman might help him. Francis catches a lucky break though. The next place Arthur is sent for training is the incubus area. Francis sneaks in on him while he trains. He remembers learning how to do all the things Arthur is working on. The subtle glances and the deep voice tones that entrance humans with weaker wills. He bites his lip in excitement. Arthur can perform the mild tricks easily. His angel nature making him stronger and more adept to handling the trials of Hell.

He drops down from his perch and steps forward. He places a hand to his mouth to cover his smirk. Some of the demons in training notice him as he struts to Heracles, the High Demon in charge of training. The large man has large wings as well, though thin. They are nearly see through. His horns are long, curling down near the back of his neck. Heracles yawns, waving lazily to Francis.

"After.. Night. Maybe, sir." The demons rubs at his face. Francis smiles in response. He doesn't know why Heracles always seems tired, but he does his job right. All the demons in training are now looking his direction. Francis however, only has eyes for Arthur. The Fallen Angel is now regarding him with a blank expression. The King smirks his way and blows out a puff of air. The weaker demons moan, holding themselves tighter. The stronger ones, like Arthur, shudder. Francis snickers. He holds out his hand. Arthur steps forward like he was born to. When he finally has Arthur close to him. He makes them vanish.

It's been a while since he's taken someone to his room. He held off for Arthur. He always thought of him and his green eyes when he did take someone for his own. He holds Arthur's hands tightly and guides him back towards the bed. Arthur holds him still though, stopping their movements. It's quiet between them. Francis is twitching. He wants to hold Arthur tight. He's waited so long to do so. He doesn't get the chance since Arthur rips his hands away and pushes the King back. Francis flops onto the bed with an oof. Arthur is fuming. His red hair catches fire.

"You bloody bastard!" The lower demon yells. Francis can't help it. He smiles. He's missed Arthur so much. Arthur paces around the room, starting fires beneath his feet.

"When you said I had to go through torture I didn't think you meant _all of it_ ," Arthur hisses at him, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. Francis sits up and crosses his legs. He spreads his wings wide behind him. He's excited by Arthur's anger.

"Yes, well that was when you were just human, then you became an angel." Francis points out. He sticks his tongue out slightly. Arthur growls, turning a sharp glare to him.

"Why didn't you want me to be with you from the beginning?" Arthur barks out. He stomps forward to stand in front of Francis. The King reaches out his hands and takes Arthur's balled firsts. He massages them to get them to release their tension. Arthur takes a deep breath and lets Francis calm him. His hair extinguishes.

"I never wanted Hell for you. I never wanted this pain for you," Francis places his head against Arthur's hands. He hates himself for hurting the one who managed to be his one. Arthur kneels down to face Francis. He lifts his hands and holds the King's face between them.

"Are you happy though? With me here?" Arthur gulps, looking up at him with worried eyes. Francis lets out a strangled laugh. He holds Arthur's face in his own hands and pushes their foreheads together.

"More than the world," Francis breathes out. He is happier than life that Arthur is with him. He's been hurting over not having him close. He just hates himself for taking Arthur down. Arthur steps up and pushes Francis back onto the bed. He smirks down at him.

"Then please, don't hurt yourself more because of it. I chose to be here." Arthur leans down and kisses him quickly. Francis can feel his breathing stop. These past years wanting and hoping, and now Arthur is finally here with him. He pushes up to pin Arthur to the bed beneath him. Arthur gives him a smile that is downright devilish. Francis chuckles.

"You're beautiful," He says. Arthur puffs up in a blush. He scoffs and pushes away Francis's face. It's such a simple action, but it makes Francis feel like he is in Heaven. He nuzzles into Arthur's shoulder, causing the other demon to laugh loudly.

"What did you do in the clouds?" Francis asks, kissing up Arthur's neck. He's done playing games, but he is curious. Arthur is mewling for him and there is no way he's letting this go now.

"New wave management," Arthur moans out, clawing at Francis's back. Francis sinks his teeth into Arthur's shoulder, relishing in the delicious sounds his love is making. He can regret Arthur falling for him later, right now, he's going to take pleasure in him. With Arthur's body now stronger to handle Hell, it's easier to ravish him like he wants to. He leaves scratches and bite marks all over Arthur's skin, claiming him for his own. Arthur returns the favor, much to Francis's enjoyment.

* * *

Francis opens his eyes to the red room around him. There are a few screams off in the distance that further wake him. He groans and stretches out his arms as best he can with Arthur still dozing on top of him. He unfurls his wings to wrap around them, curling Arthur closer. He runs his finger's through the red hair, still soft as a summer breeze. He slips out of bed leaving Arthur to sleep by himself. His love will be ready soon enough. The King makes his way up to the workroom. He leaves his office door open. It's been 10 years since Arthur completed his training.

"Morning Sir," Francis smiles up at Ivan. The demon enters with a soft knock to the door. He sweeps into the room and hands Francis a file.

"Oh? He wishes to change rooms?" Francis raises an eyebrow at the request. One of their well known masochistic demons, who has been under Ivan's.. Care. For a few decades is wishing to change rooms to a newbie torturer. He taps his pen to his lips.

"What are you asking of me?" Francis drops the file to his desk. He folds his hands and rests his chin on them. Ivan is smiling sweetly down at him.

"I wish to break them both sir," Ivan giggles. His eyes brighten at the idea of pain. Francis's smile falls. There's a hidden reason here.

"Ivan," His tone is sharp. Francis's eyes are flashing darkly. Ivan's sweet façade snaps. His eyes widen, and but he's still smiling. It's a twisted glint in his eyes now.

"He belongs to me. He's my favorite toy." Ivan is tense now. He's clenching and unclenching his fists. The corners of his mouth are twitching like he can't figure out how to feel. Francis keeps himself calm. He's dealt with Ivan's rage before, caused it once or twice as well. Ivan scratches at his arms, the chain marks melding into a physical form in his hands. Ivan twists the metal links.

"He's mine." Ivan says again, his voice strained. Francis stands. He takes the file in his hands and holds it back out to Ivan. The High Demon gives out a strained giggle, his smile finally falling off his face. His normal violet eyes are turning red. He throws his chains to the ground. The loud clang shocks the lower demons working outside.

"Ivan," Francis warns. Ivan tears at his hair, his laughter increasing. Francis solves the issues by punching Ivan in the face. It's a quick hit, short enough to bring Ivan back to reality. The chains slither back onto his arms.

"I can not keep a demon where they do not wish to be." He says coldly. Ivan whimpers. He pulls at the ends of his scarf.

"That one is my favorite.." He mumbles. Francis sighs. He snaps his fingers to make the file disappear to the newbie torturer. If a demon wishes to be in a better place for themselves, they are given the opportunity to do so. Lower level demons are given chances often.

"Ivan you have plenty more to torture," Francis tries to reassure him. Ivan stops twitching. He results to scowling at the ground.

"Da, I just lost my head for a second." Ivan scratches his nails through his hair. Francis can faintly make out thin lines of blood appearing over Ivan's marks. Ivan takes a deep breath, shakes his head lightly, then his sweet smile is back. He nods once politely to Francis and makes his way out of the office area.

"Ivan," Francis calls just before the torturer exits. Ivan pauses in the doorway with his hand on the edge. He glances back at the King. Francis raises his wings just a little higher.

"If I hear that you're forcing that demon to stay with you, I'll put you in solitary." His tone may have been light, but the threat behind it is heavy. Ivan blinks once, then smiles in understanding. Francis waves to him as he leaves. He takes a deep breath, he really didn't want to have to deal with snapped Ivan today. Or any day. Ever.

"Good morning sir, I have your daily reports," Francis stretches up his arms and wings. He flaps once to lift himself off the ground and onto his desk. He crosses his legs as Arthur comes closer with a stack of files. Arthur is wearing his standard black suit, his wings folded close behind him. His horns have grown in his stay, longer and sharper, pointing up to the sky on the side of his head. They fit him nicely. Francis holds out his hand for the upcoming work. Arthur is professional, like he barely knows Francis in the work zone. When he gets close enough, Francis smacks the papers out his hands. Before Arthur can scold him, Francis flips his wings around them. He pulls Arthur close and kisses him hard.

"I'm not picking those up for you," Arthur deadpans. Francis laughs and nuzzles Arthur's neck. The management demon huffs but pets the King's hair. He untangles himself from Francis's arms. He's got jobs to do. Just as Francis predicted, Arthur couldn't handle welcoming residents. He died of laughter when he heard that Arthur wanted to put someone through torture for only a year, max. Arthur puffed and huffed when Francis had to remind him this is Hell. So they moved him to a lackey job around the office. He delivers papers, helps clean tools when they are dirty, and in general is there when a torture area is in short supply. He spends most his time in the work space, with Francis.

At the end of every day, Francis waits in his office for Arthur to finish his own job. They dance their way around the office towards the elevator and Francis's room. The King couldn't be happier. He's expressed his guilt and pain for putting Arthur through Hell's rooms, but Arthur kisses him and tells him it's okay now. He kisses away the bad thoughts. Francis lets him. The best part, even in the deepest parts of Hell, Arthur is more than happy to be with him.


End file.
